The Heart Never Forgets
by deepwater1978
Summary: I might have erased your texts. But I will never forget what you wrote. We might have stopped talking, but I will never forget your voice. We might have stopped hugging but I will never forget how you smell. Anything we did, I will never forget.
1. Chapter 1

_Ten years earlier…_

Damon Salvatore looked around the crowded room and had to force himself not to yawn. He couldn't stand attending events where everyone drank too much, laughed too loud and tried far too hard to impress each other.

Damon knew he was what women considered a real catch. Hell, a stupid magazine had done a write up on Washington's most eligible bachelors and placed his picture as number one. At the age of twenty-five, Damon was the vice president of Salvatore Corporate. Salvatore Corporate had a net worth of more than a hundred billion. They'd also said he was an extremely handsome young man with a height of 5'10' and a well-toned body. With striking, intense blue eyes contrasting wonderfully against dark lashes and eyebrows, and a "bad boy" smile, they'd had described him as the "eternal stud".

He hated gyms but he ran every morning and sometime in the evenings too. He'd discovered at a young age running was a great form of relieving his stress. He knew the second best way to relieve stress was to take a woman to bed. Maybe one day he'd think about settling down. At this stage, he wasn't interested in any long term commitment with any women. Including Rebekah.

Rebekah Mikaelson was a beautiful and very attractive woman and had natural light blond hair, light blue eyes, full lips, and pale light skin with a small dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose. She was the only daughter of Mikael and Esther Mikaelson. The Mikaelson family was a powerful family in Richmond. They ruled a huge chain of department stores across Virginia, a family business which the Mikaelson family had built their reputation, although they currently represented only a small portion of their vast holding.

Damon dated Rebekah for a while when they were in university, and they had sex. Great sex. But they had gone their separate ways after that. Over the years they had become comfortable with each other – the way two old friends could be. They slipped in and out of the roles of lovers because it was easy. He knew he could find comfort and affection in her arms – with no demands from her, no strings, no expectations to be fulfilled.

These parties were all about who had the most to offer. The women were on the prowl and the men were fishing. He wasn't interested. If he wanted a woman, he could have one at any time. He wasn't interested in superficial, wanna-be socialites.

He watched as a couple of ladies passed by, dripping in diamonds and low cut gowns. They were trying to catch his eye and normally he'd make their day by flirting a little, giving them the impression they stood a chance but he wasn't interested today. In the middle of all of it, holding audience, stood the long dark brown hair diva herself, stunning in a black lace above knee-length dress that hugged her generous curves. He lowered his tumbler, his glance automatically straying to the stunning brunette across the room. It was Elena Gilbert. He hadn't seen her for more than a year now. She had stirred his interest from the moment she'd walked into the room with a stride that had in it the faintest hint of a swagger, with a quick rhythm that synchronised and turned graceful the supple movement of her body. She was a woman all the way through – all lace and legs.

"There you are, boy. What are you doing hiding in the corner?" Rebekah walked up to him.

Damon raised his glass and gestured toward the far side of the room. "Isn't that Elena Gilbert?"

"Yes, that's Elena," Rebekah confirmed. "Truthfully, I didn't expect to see her here. She didn't like to attend parties or gatherings of this type. Her life has been a constant cycle books and exams," she chuckled. During the brief pause that followed, Damon could feel Rebekah carefully monitoring his reaction. "Gorgeous, isn't she?"

"Definitely." He continued to lounge against the wall, for the moment content to enjoy his unobstructed view of Elena, conscious of the hot, smooth feeling that flowed through him.

"Is that Tyler Lockwood?" He gestured to a muscular young man with tanned skin, short black hair and dark brown eyes.

"Hmm. Elena's boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" His gaze sharpened on the pair, irritation flickered through him.

"They have been together for about a year now."

Again he felt the speculation in her study of him. "Trust me, Damon. She is not your type."

"Why do you say that?" He glanced at her curiously.

"Because…no woman seems to last with you. It isn't even a case off with the old and on with the new. No one sticks around long enough to be old. She's a woman of such contrast. I have to tell you that you two are definitely not a good match. No even in the short term."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Damon, don't do something silly. I don't want you to regret." Rebekah frowned, as if aware she wasn't making herself clear.

"I will have to keep that in mind." With a little push of his shoulder, he straightened from the wall. "I am getting another glass of champagne. I enjoyed the chat, Rebekah." He winked at her as he moved away.

x x x

Without being obvious, Elena watched as Damon Salvatore leisurely wound his way around the guests. He was definitely sexier than she'd seen him more than a year ago at the Founder's Ball. She found herself liking the way he moved, like an athlete, all smooth coordination and easy grace. He stared back. She took a sip of the orange juice, conscious only of the unexpected quickening of her pulse. What was he doing in Richmond? She looked again, telling herself that her interest was strictly curiosity. His gaze never left her as he nodded absently to the person with him and raised a crystal tumbler to his mouth. Elena glanced at the blonde beside him. Rebekah Mikaelson, the daughter of Mikael and Esther Mikaelson. Obviously the two knew each other well.

Damon Salvatore. The eldest son of Giuseppe and Lily Salvatore. After Lily was drowned in the sea, Damon and his brother Stefan had been raised by their father who was, according to Elena's mother, in no way qualified to be a father because Giueseppe had engaged in multiple affairs after Lily died. And Damon taking on his father also displayed womanizing tendencies with the opposite sex.

For four generations, ever since the legendary street fight between Joseph Salvatore and Jonathan Gilbert in front of Mystic Falls Town hall, the Gilberts had dutifully warned their offspring not to get involved with the wild, unruly Salvatores. Her great grandmother Katherine Pierce was the cause of the feud as both men were deeply in love with her.

Damon was twenty-five, eight years older than herself, Elena thought. Although she and her family had lived in Mystic Falls for generations, Elena had had no direct contact with Damon while she was growing up. The eight years' difference in their ages had served to keep their orbits safely separated, even in Mystic Falls which is a small community where both families had deep roots. Eight years was a chasm when one was a kid. Ever since the Salvatore family had moved to Washington more than ten years ago, she hardly had any interaction with the two boys of Giuseppe Salvatore. But the Salvatore family still spent some summer and vacations at Mystic Falls.

"I wonder what he is doing here." Caroline Forbes took a sip of the wine from her glass.

"Who?" Elena glanced around the room quickly.

"Damon Salvatore." Caroline answered. "The Salvatore Corporate has become one of the largest land developers in the country in the last five years. Damon Salvatore is now the vice president." Her expression grew thoughtful. "He will take over Salvatore Corporate when Giuseppe retires in the next couple of years."

Elena smiled at her friend. "So tell me, since when have you developed an interest in the Salvatores?"

The beautiful blonde glanced around the crowded room. Apparently satisfied that no one could overhear, she leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Intelligent, educated, clearheaded women like us know better than to marry guys like Damon Salvatore. But that doesn't mean it wouldn't be fun to fool around with one." She winked. "He is sexy as hell. Practically every available woman in this room wants to put all that raw male and hard muscle to good use."

Elena rolled her eyes. "I'm not interested." But she knew it was a lie.

"Really? You mean you weren't at all attracted to him?"

Elena shook her head and laughed softly. "I think you have drank too much, my friend. You do know legally you aren't allowed to drink until you are twenty-one, don't you?" With a lift of her head, she glanced beyond Caroline to scan the room. "Where is Tyler? Have you seen him?"

"When I last saw him, he was over by the reception hall." She waved her hand in its direction.

"I will find him. It's getting late." Elena smiled at her friend as she moved away. "I'll see you back in Mystic Falls next week."

Elena and Tyler had been together for about a year now. At eighteen, Tyler Lockwood was a fine-looking young man. Almost all of the mayors of Mystic Falls were from the Lockwood family but Tyler wasn't interested in becoming a mayor. He was currently the captain of the Mystic Falls Football Team and he planned to go national. They rarely saw each other recently because of the time he spent in his practise. Everyone in Mystic Falls had believed they were a good match but Elena started to have doubts about her relationship with Tyler in the last few weeks. Maybe she hadn't put enough effort in making their relationship worked. Oh hell, she didn't know.

As Elena approached the reception hall, she heard voices—one male voice she recognized very well, and a female voice that she didn't. She heard a passionate groan from Tyler, a sound she'd never heard before, and a responding husky female moan. She turned her head and her breath caught as she saw Tyler kissing a brunette. His hands were on her breast and her butt, holding her model-thin body against his, grinding against her. Elena stared in morbid fascination watching as the man she'd been involved with and had trusted for the last one year, killed her devotion with every kiss and every touch of his hands against the woman's breast and butt. And as every bit of her love for him drained away, so came the realization that this Tyler was a complete stranger. She never knew him.

Elena cleared her throat. "I suspect you are not in a hurry to go."

"Elena," Tyler tore his mouth away from the brunette and gasped heavily. 'I can explain…"

Elena held up her hand. "Sorry to interrupt. I can find my way home. Please continue."

She didn't look in Tyler's direction again. She didn't want to see him or the brunette he'd just been kissing. Turning on her heels, she walked away from him. Never looking back.

"You can't just leave like this. I can explain," Tyler yelled desperately from behind.

Like there was really any reasonable explanation for what she'd just witnessed? Raising her voice just loud enough to be heard, she answered without looking back, "We are over, Tyler. Don't bother to explain anymore. Don't make a fool of yourself."

Existing the foyer, she drank deeply of the night air and fought to cool her emotion. She had to keep moving. She would survive.

"It's going to be a long way home." The lazily seductive drawl of a male voice seemed to reach out the night and stroke her.

Elena spun around. For an instant, everything inside her went still. Damon stood before her, dark and elegant in his black evening attire. There was a sleekness about him – a raciness that convinced Elena he should be wearing a warning label advising the unwary that here was a man highly dangerous to the senses.

"Do you do this a lot?" she asked gruffly.

"Do what a lot?"

"Jump out of nowhere when people clearly want to be left alone?"

An eyebrow lifted. "You want to be left alone so that you can mourn for your break up?"

Her first reaction to the realization that he had witnessed what happened between Tyler and her was overwhelming mortification. Anger warred with acute embarrassment.

"How rude of you to spy on people who want to have private conversations."

"Spy? Your boyfriend was kissing another woman in the reception hall. Anyone who walk pass will have seen them." His smile mocked her.

She glared. "You're being deliberately obnoxious."

"But not quite as obnoxious as the jerk, huh? At least I won't kiss another woman in front of my girlfriend."

"Oh, shut up. I'm going home."

"I hate to mention it, but you are standing alone here in Richmond in the middle of the night. Like I said, it's going to be a long way back to Mystic Falls, especially when you don't have a car."

"I can call a cab."

"Trust me honey, no cab will take you back from Richmond to Mystic Falls at this hour." He smirked, his eyes glinting with a wickedly mocking light. "It will cost you a fortune as well, sweetheart."

She was just gearing up to inform him that she didn't particularly appreciate sexist endearments like "sweetheart" or "honey" when he removed his suit and handed it to her. "You are cold. Here, put this on."

"I'm not cold," she said through chattering teeth, wishing she hadn't left her jacket in Tyler's car. "It's just a little bit chilly." She ran her hand up and down her arm, trying to erase the goose bumps. "You don't have to give me your suit."

"But I want to."

She tried to read his face in the shadows, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking or feeling. Assuming that is, that he was thinking or feeling anything at all.

"Put on the suit. I don't think I have any first-aid kit which contains cold remedies in my car."

Reluctant but shivering again, she took the suit and the fabric was soft against her fingertips. She pulled it over her shoulders, enjoying the warmth, and the smell of his cologne. "Thank you."

"Ready to go home?"

Automatically she looked at her own watch. "Good grief, it's almost eleven. I need to get someone to pick me up. I've got to get going."

"I will take you home."

"That's not necessary."

"Yes it is. I'm not leaving you here in Richmond in the middle of the night. Come on, my car is just around the corner." He rested his hand at the small of her back and Elena held her breath as a sensation of heat coiled through her body. No man had ever had that effect on her, including Tyler.

x x x

"We are here."

Damon's deep voice brought Elena's out of a semi-stupor induced by the break-up earlier that night, long stretches of unbroken silence, and mile after mile of empty road.

She blinked owlishly and glanced at the clock on the dash, surprised to find that it was almost one. Sitting up, she saw a luxury hotel in front of them.

"Here where? This is not Mystic Falls."

"I'm tired. I need some sleep. Got a long way to drive back to Mystic Falls tomorrow morning." He shuddered open his door, letting in a slice of cold air that nipped at Elena's lungs. Her nose burrowed deeper into the collar of her borrowed suit as she climbed out.

Damon hadn't chosen a sleazy highway motel. Instead, he'd booked them into a luxury suite in a new hotel at Hampton. He unlocked the door to the suit, then stepped back to let Elena precede him. She walked by him and wandered into the sitting room.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked as he removed the silver-and-onyx cuff links and rolled up the sleeves of the white shirt.

"I'm seventeen. Legally I can't drink."

"Yet." He mocked at her again.

She gritted her teeth. "You are a jerk."

"I know," he grinned, watching her with an amused look before walking to the bar.

Irritated, she sank down on the elegant, tapestry-covered sofa. She watched him for a moment. Damon looked rakish and extremely sexy with his tie undone and his shirt open at the throat. There was some indefinable quality about him that stamped him as dangerous, a man who could smile and draw a throaty groan from every woman in this planet.

Damon strode towards her, holding a glass in each hand, his eyes never left her.

"Try this. It will keep you warm."

Hesitantly, she took the glass of bourbon he handed her and eyed at him suspiciously.

"It's bourbon, not poison." He winked and took a drink of his own, letting the cold bourbon trickle in and burn down his throat.

Elena eyed it dubiously before sampling. She coughed, made a face, and set the glass down on the coffee table with a finality that echoed through the room.

Damon couldn't help grinning as he sank down beside her. "It's strong but I like it."

"You like it doesn't mean that I like it too." She coughed again and pushed the glass a complete arm's length away on the table.

"Yes, we are different. I'm a Salvatore and you are a Gilbert, remember?" His smile gleamed dangerously.

She raised her chin. "I don't give a darn about that stupid feud. Ancient history, as far as I'm concerned."

"Right. Ancient history. But you know what they say about history. Those who don't learn from it are condemned to relive it."

Startled, she stared at him. "Is that the reason why your family moved to Washington? To avoid from making the same mistake?"

He laughed softly. "You didn't think the Salvatores will actually run away to avoid from making a mistake, did you?"

"No, I didn't think so."

Damon took a long, slow drink and savoured the way the liquor wound through his body. He studied her as he felt the alcohol's subtle effects. He wondered her skin would be as smooth to the touch as it looked. He let his glance stray to that lace top of her dress. "I like your dress." Almost absently he trailed the tip of his finger down her hand, feeling the heat from her body – and the sudden tension that claimed her. He lifted his glance to her eyes. They were alive to him, returning his look measure for measure. "I wonder what it is about black lace that stirs a man's blood?" he mused aloud.

"I should think you'd be able to answer that question more easily than I could since you are very definitely a man." She regretted immediately when the words came out from her mouth.

"You noticed." He ran a hand lightly along her spine. She almost snapped in two.

"So why were you in Richmond?" A change of topic sounded like a great idea at that moment. "Business trip?"

"The Mikaelsons are family friends. I was on my way to Richmond to check on my project when Rebekah mentioned the family was hosting a party. So here I'm."

"Rebekah? The woman you were with this evening?"

"Hmm."

"The two of you are close," she murmured.

"We are friends. We used to date in the past but it's over. Why would you have interest in Rebekah and me?" He arched a dark eyebrow in her direction, a curiosity in his look.

"Well, everyone knows about your reputation." She attempted to shrug off her answer. "That's common knowledge in Mystic Falls."

"You have been listening to rumours, haven't you?"

"Are they rumours?" she challenged.

"Why is it that we always seem to be talking about me? What about you and your life?"

"Mine isn't nearly as interesting as yours."

"You are going to college soon, right? What are you going to do with your life?" he asked curiously, then held up a hand quickly to check her answer. "No let me guess. Lawyer? Teacher?"

"I want to be a doctor, just like my dad."

"Ah, how can I forget Grayson Gilbert is a well-respected paediatrician at Mystic Falls."

She smiled. "I know it isn't easy being a doctor and it will be even harder to live up with my dad's expectation." She paused for a moment before continuing. "I don't want to disappoint my dad."

"You know what? I think you will be a great doctor because you are smart, intelligent and caring."

"You really think so?" Surprise and delight lit her face. "No kidding?"

"No kidding," he said as he raised one hand and traced her collarbone. "Do you know there are a dozen things I've yet to find out about you?" His voice was pitch low, faintly mocking yet provocatively challenging.

She caught her breath at his touch. "Such as?"

"Such as…what's your favourite food?" His gaze moved slowly over her face, blatant in its interest. "What's your favourite movie? How could Tyler Lockwood have been so foolish as to let you go?" as she felt the brush of his fingers in her hair, he asked. "Do you always wear your hair straight? Does your mother have lips like yours? And does Tyler find it as hard as I do to keep my hands off you?"

All sense of caution fled as she moved into his arms and their mouths met, fitting together as naturally as two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. His touch was warm, his taste all Damon. Then he drew her into his lap. He cradled her in one arm, palmed her hip with the other. She slid her hands up the muscled planes of his chest to wrap around his neck. There was a dim recognition of his hands moving expertly over her body but she didn't try to keep track of them. With a rush of greed, she surged up against him.

"This is crazy," he growled, dipping down to lick her lower lip. She was addictive, like tangy barbecue sauce on sizzling ribs or cold watermelon on a hot day. He couldn't get enough of her.

"Crazy," she echoed, her mouth as hungry as his.

"We should stop now, before it's too late."

"You first," she panted.

Damon was filled with mixed emotions. His body was urging him to go for it – but his head kept insisting he'd better hold back. Elena Gilbert was not just another one-night conquest. She was special.

But tonight…

Tonight, dammit, he wanted her. He erupted from the sofa with Elena hefted high in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. There, he set her down and kissed her again, rediscovering the earthy and stimulating pressure of her lips. Pulling back, Damon turned her around and slowly slid the zipper all the way down to the base of her spine. He slid the dress off her shoulders and down her arms, stimulated by the silken texture of her skin. As he bent to nibble at the bareness of her shoulder, the dress fell the rest of the way to the floor in a rustling whisper.

While his fingers edged the thin straps of her bra off her shoulder, his nibbling mouth followed its ridge to the base of her neck. Her head was thrown back and to the side, allowing him to explore at length the rapidly pulsing vein in her neck. He was conscious of the disturbed shallow breaths she took, and the faint tremors she tried to contain. He wanted more, so much more.

As he turned her into his arms, he carried her to the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight centred on the point of one knee as he laid he down, then followed after her before covering his mouth over hers. He slid a leg between her thighs and instantly felt her push against it. He wanted her. God, how he wanted her – right now – this minute. Shifting his attention from her lips, he explored the perfumed hollow behind her ear. She was all motion against him, her hands running over his shoulders, neck and back, her body straining towards him, her hips arching in a rubbing rhythm until he was surrounded by heat, pressure pushing at him from inside as well as out.

"You are so beautiful," he announced as he eased the bikini panties down her long slender legs. "You've got the sexiest knees and ankles."

Growling with pleasure, Damon shimmied out of his clothes and took time only to sheathe himself before kissing her again. She was wet and near to weeping with pleasure when he raised himself above her and found the treasure he sought. She gasped as he started to slide in. She was tight and Damon thought he was going to die if he didn't get to get all the way in the next second.

She whispered his name across his neck and arched her back. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he lifted her up a little bit and tried to push all the way in. When he met the unexpected veil of resistance, he paused and looked down at her with a bewildered expression.

"What the hell Elena?"

She gave her head a little shake and lifted her other leg up around his hip and moved against him in a way that made Damon uttered every swear word he knew. "Don't stop. Damon, please don't stop." She was breathy and it was too late for that to be an option anyway. She felt better than anything he had ever felt in his life and there was no way he was going to stop now. He let the fingers of one hand tangle in her hair and propped his weight up on the other so that he wasn't crushing her and went about having the best sex of his life with a god damn lying virgin.

She moved just the way he wanted her to, she touched him in ways that would wake him up in the middle of the night remembering them, she kissed him like she had been created to do it exactly the way he liked, she matched his rhythm the way only people that had lots and lots of sex together normally managed to do and every time she whispered his name or made a sexy sound of satisfaction and delight it made him felt ten feet tall. They moved together, she arched her back and put her hands back on his head.

"Oh my God, Damon." She was close; he could feel the little tremors all along his body. There was no way he was going to ruin this for her so he touched her in a way that was guaranteed to make her shatter and was rewarded with wide eyes and a gasp of surrender. He was super relieved because he wasn't going to last much longer. He buried his nose in her neck and followed her over the edge.

He collapsed against her, his skin fiery, his breathing laboured, and then he moved onto his side to keep himself from crushing her, taking her with him, his arm around her back, his fingers buried in the bunched satin of her hair. Silent, floating, still intimately joined to her, he let his hand drift up and down her spine, revelling in the sensation of being held inside her wet warmth and the brush of her lips against his collarbone. He closed his eyes, savouring it and felt her breathing even out and realized she was falling asleep.

What the hell had he done? And what in the hell had Tyler been doing with her if he hadn't been sleeping with her? There were so many unanswered questions. He'd let her sleep for a while, he decided, and himself too. Then he would wake her up and make love to her more properly and thoroughly. After that they would talk. They had to talk.

An hour later, Elena carefully eased Damon's arm from her and slid noiselessly from the bed. She paused to look back and make sure she hadn't wakened him. In sleep, there was even more strength in his features, a kind of hard pride that was usually masked by a smile. She stared for a moment, remembering again that absolute rawness of emotion, so powerful and so beautiful…much more than excitement, much more than exquisite release. Somehow, she had done an incredibly foolish thing. But in her heart, she knew she would never see him again. She would forget him. It would just take time. An uncomfortable weight settled on her chest, hard, heavy and totally crushing.

For the first time in her life, Elena Gilbert felt like she was lying to herself.

Nudged from his sleep by the sound of his phone ringing, Damon opened his eyes and stared in mild confusion at the empty pillow beside him. The memories from the night before slammed into his head. Elena was gone. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes while answering the call.

"Hello…"

"It certainly took you long enough, Damon."

He recognised the voice immediately. It was Stefan.

"What's up brother?"

"Dr Maxfield just called me. It's about dad."

He stiffened. "What's wrong?"

There was silence for a moment.

"Dad has lymphoma."


	2. Chapter 2

_Ten years later…_

"Here we are," Alaric Saltzman called, managing to brake the car to a smooth stop near the private elevator beneath the building of Salvatore Corporate. "Home sweet home."

"Finally home," Damon said as he glanced up from the report he was reading before putting the paper back in his briefcase. God, he was tired. It had been a long and dreary flight from Miami but he was glad to be back in Washington DC. It had been a long week.

"You should go home and take a shower," Alaric opened the car door and Damon slid out. "You look awful, you know," he said with a wry grin.

"You don't think I know that?" Damon scowled. "I have a meeting at two and I have to attend the opera's benefit ball tonight."

"I don't envy your job at all," he chuckled. "You want to know why the last five years have been the happiest of my life? Because I have a life. Because I have two little girls that I absolutely love, a job that I actually earned, and a wife that makes me feels so lucky to be alive."

"Well, thanks for making me jealous.' Damon smirked.

Alaric had been working for the Salvatore Corporate for almost ten years. He was also as loyal as he was daring, and ten years ago those traits had caused him to risk his life dragging Giuseppe Salvatore to safety when two men had tried to kidnap him by ambushing his limousine after he left the building. For his efforts, Alaric had received a case of his favourite bourbon along with the Salvatore family's unending gratitude. Strapped over Alaric's shoulder, beneath his jacket, was a .45 automatic that he'd bought years ago after the kidnap attempt. Damon privately thought the gun was unnecessary.

Alaric was tall, about 6'2 in height, with an athletic build. He can be described as a handsome man with short, brown hair that was gelled on the top and had blue eyes. He often wore casual clothing, t-shirts, button downs, jackets and jeans. Damon always thought Alaric was better suited to the job of professor than bodyguard/chauffeur.

"When are you going to finally settle down?" Alaric asked him.

"You know me, I don't want a lady coming into my life and messing with a good thing," Damon said. He had his typical smirk on his face but there was no real meaning behind his words. He was thinking being single wasn't as great as it had once been. There were many nights when he was lying in his king-sized bed he thought it would be pretty great to share it with someone. In fact, he still felt like that every time he saw his little brother Stefan and his fiancée Valerie together, or his friends, Enzo and Bonnie, and Wes and Nadia. Even Alaric was happily married to Isobel, and together they had a pair of twin three years ago, Damon couldn't deny the fact that he envied them.

He was very happy for all of them because every one of them deserved to be happy—but it wasn't easy not to feel lost, not to mention a little odd, when he was around them. He just didn't roll that way, and he kept his emotions in check. He'd been conditioned to keep a grip on himself since he was a child, and he'd learned to keep a handle on himself throughout his career. It was too vital for him to stay cool and detached. Letting his emotions rule him would have meant mistakes, and he'd rarely made errors when he was in business.

He shook off his melancholy mood and crossed to the private elevator. It made only one stop – on the twentieth floor, the office of the Salvatore Corporate.

Damon had taken over the role of Giuseppe as the president of Salvatore Corporate ten years ago when Giuseppe was diagnosed with lymphoma. Giuseppe had done a brilliant job with the company. Until now, he still could not believe that after having worked so hard to take the company to another level that he had to retire in such an early age because of his health. Damon, being the eldest son, had decided to step up. Salvatore Corporate wasn't just a business. It had required vision and sweat to bring it to life. It was the result of a lot of carefully calculated risks and farsighted strategy. It had heart. It had struggled and fought and survived in a jungle where other businesses, large and small, got eaten alive. Damon couldn't let his father down and he didn't. When it came to business, Damon knew exactly what he was doing. Stefan on the other hand, hadn't shown much interest in Salvatore Corporate. Damon went toe-to-toe with Giuseppe more than once over that issue. He warned his father that he would not permit his brother to be coerced into turning the company into a family dynasty. Damon wanted Stefan to feel free to choose his own paths in life, and he did. Now Stefan was a successful physician working in Washington.

The elevator whisked him silently to the building's top floor and opened its door on Liv's office, the private entrance allowing him to avoid the public reception area and the many offices of the company's various departments. As always, Liv was already seated behind her desk, guarding the door to his office, welcoming him with a pleasant smile when he walked out of the elevator.

"Welcome back, Mr Salvatore." Liv was an attractive, groomed, blonde young woman in her twenties. She had been working for Damon for almost three years now and she had been an ideal personal assistant from the very first day she had arrived at his office. He had never regretted his decision of employing her. Within a week, he had realized that like him, Liv Parker could work at a ceaseless, killing pace without ever wearing out or wearing down. The more responsibility he gave her, the more she accomplished. In fact, she was a nearly indispensable asset to his business life.

"Good to be back, Liv." He gave her a nod and a smile before heading straight for his office. "Is the agenda ready for the meeting?"

"Of course," she replied, matching his brisk manner perfectly.

He opened the door then paused. "And let Enzo know I'm back."

"Right away." She reached for the intercom.

Without waiting, Damon entered his office and automatically closed the door behind him, then crossed the bleached wood floor to his desk. He glanced briefly at the stack of phone messages and letters waiting for his attention on the desk before settling down on his leather chair.

There was a quick rap on his door following by the click of the latch. Damon looked up expecting to see Enzo walk in. But it was Liv, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. "I knew I had missed something. Nobody makes coffee as good as you do, Liv."

"You are only saying that to make sure I don't go on strike and refuse to make coffee for you anymore." She crossed the room and set the cup on his desk beaming at his praise. Besides being an excellent personal assistant, Liv was like a sister. He had hoped to have a little sister when he was younger but Giuseppe had never married after his wife died.

"The coffee on the plane is terrible," he said as he took a sip of the coffee from the cup.

"You should get yourself a wife. Ask her to make you nice coffee every day."

"What can I do? I keep asking and you keep turning me down." He winked at her.

"You are impossible." She pretended to be angry with him. "It's time you get married. You not only don't have a wife, but you don't have any children either."

Enzo strolled into the office with a smile on his face. "At least, none that you know about, Liv."

She turned. "If he had any, I'd know. Everyone would, because you bet the mother would file a paternity suit."

"If it's a child you want, Damon, Bonnie and I will loan you one of ours. You can take your pick. Right now I think Bonnie would willingly give all two of them away. It was a bad weekend at home."

Damon straightened from his desk. "Can you let the others know that I will be in the meeting in ten minutes?"

"Sure." Easily Liv slipped back into the role of the efficient personal assistant and left his office.

Enzo watched her left, then turned back to Damon, grinned and shook his head in amusement. "She never gives up, does she?"

"Not Liv."

Enzo wandered over to the desk and sat down in the chair that faced it. "Did you get everything worked out in Miami to your satisfaction?"

Damon smiled crookedly. "Let's say I got everything worked out. Whether it will be to my satisfaction remains to be seen. The Miami project will be our most ambitious project to date." When completed, it would a year-round resort complex, with a palatial hotel and gambling casino adjacent to the marina and yacht club with a luxury chalet-style condominium. By the time the development was completed and in operation two years from now, the profit from it would be in the hundreds of millions.

"Well, you have pulled another rabbit out of the hat with your typical Damon Salvatore style." Enzo smiled. "By the way, you are going to the opera's benefit ball, aren't you?

Damon sighed. "Ben and Andie have insisted I should go." He took another sip of the coffee. "Actually, I would prefer to have a nice quiet night."

X x x

Refreshed from a sauna and shower, Damon wrapped a towel around his waist and reached for the wristwatch lying on the black marble vanity that swept around his circular bathroom. The telephone rang, and he picked it up.

"Are you naked?" Andie Starr's sultry voice asked before he'd said a word.

"What number are you calling?" he said with feigned confusion.

"Yours, darling. Are you naked?"

"Semi-naked," Damon said, "and running late."

"I'm so glad you're finally back in Washington. When did you get in?"

"This afternoon."

"I have you in my clutches at last!" She laughed an enticing, contagious laugh. "You can't believe the fantasies I've been having, thinking about tonight when we get back from the opera's benefit ball. I've missed you, Damon," she added, blunt and direct as always.

"We're going to see each other in an hour," Damon promised, "if you let me get off the phone, that is."

"All right. I was so afraid you'd forget about the opera benefit tonight."

"Of course not," he said. "How could I? Operas make me comatose," Damon joked, and Andie chuckled in agreement. In the past several years Damon had attended dozens of operas and symphonies because he moved in a social stratum where sponsorship of, and attendance at, cultural functions was necessary from a business standpoint. Now that he was unwillingly familiar with most famous symphonies and operas, his original opinion of them hadn't changed. He found most of them boring as hell and all of them overlong. He met Ben Starr - Andie's father who was one of the big bankers in Washington DC a year ago. Unlike many of the dilettante socialites Damon had met, Ben was a tough, blunt, down-to-earth businessman, and Damon liked him immensely. In fact, if he could choose a father-in-law, Ben would have been his choice. Andie was much like her father— sophisticated and polished but direct as hell when it came to getting what she wanted. They had both wanted him to accompany them to the opera benefit tonight, and they wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd ended up not only agreeing to attend, but agreeing to contribute some money as well.

Two months ago, when Andie had blatantly hinting that they ought to get married, Damon had briefly entertained the idea, but the impulse had passed very quickly. He enjoyed Andie in bed and out of it, and he liked her style, but she was not the one he would consider spending the rest of his life with because he had never been able to duplicate the feelings he'd had for Elena—that violent, possessive, insane need to see and touch and laugh with her, that volcanic passion that controlled him and couldn't be sated.

What had happened between them was so long ago, but somehow Damon just couldn't forget about the night they spent together. That night had been a life-changing event for him. Never again would he be able to settle for just any woman in his bed. He wasn't sure whether to be completely pissed off or in awe of the woman who made him feel this way. Sure, he had had quite a few women all these years. But none of them made him feel this way, except Elena. And every time he thought back about that night, it was a torture. Her taste. Her smile. Her moans. Her absolutely beautiful nude body. Her cries as she came for him, her flesh tightening around him until he found release. He had wanted to claim her then; now, ten years later, the desire was a damn obsession.

Three years ago, Damon had cringed when he heard from Rebekah Mikaelson that Elena was seeing her brother Elijah. Jealousy nearly ate him alive, knowing another man was touching her. But he had coped with it by working and seeing other women; he hoped that eventually that niggling fear that she had end up permanently taken by another man would pass.

It hadn't. His craze to possess her had just gotten stronger, deeper. When he heard that her engagement had blown up six months ago, he couldn't be happier. What had actually gone wrong? He wondered. Elijah Mikaelson would be considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Richmond. Damon had been friends with the Mikaelsons for as long as he could remember. Elijah was a very attractive, positive, quirky and upbeat person. He always tried to see the good in people and tried to be a friend to everyone. He lived by a code of honour and morality that had been with him since he was a child. No women would ever turn down on him. Elena was obviously the exception.

Sometimes Damon did wonder what would happen if Elena didn't leave that night. Would they be together? They would talk. There were so many questions to be answered. When he had realized she had given him her most sacred gift that night, he was overwhelmed. Why didn't she tell him she was still a virgin? He even considered going back to Mystic Falls to look for her because he seriously believed that there was something special going on between the two of them. But one could never predict about life. Giuseppe turned out to have lymphoma and had to start chemotherapy straightaway. He couldn't just walk away from his father and most important of all, Salvatore Corporate.

Maybe it hadn't been right for the two of them. Maybe it would never be right for them. Pushing the thoughts away, Damon shrugged into his black tuxedo jacket and headed to the front door of his apartment.

x x x

As the limousine pulled away from the curb, Damon gazed at the mist swirling outside the tinted windows. He was glad he could slip away from the ball early. Those balls were so tiring.

A soft sigh was followed by a stir of movement next to him as Andie settled back against the seat. "I'm glad we are finally alone, Damon." She reached for his hand, sliding her palm over his and lacing their fingers together. "I have missed you."

"I thought you would be upset when I suggested leaving early." He sent her an amused look. "I always thought that you love all those functions."

"No, not really." She poked at his arm in playful punishment. "I prefer to stay in bed with you."

"That I know." He smirked as he gazed over at her.

"You are a devil, Damon Salvatore," she murmured softly before leaning closer to brush her lips over his. "Do you think you can ask your chauffeur to drive faster?"

An hour later, Damon stood beside the king-sized bed in his apartment and wrapped himself in a white terry cloth robe. Outside the rain came down in sheets. Lightning flashed, drawing his glance to the rain-coated window. Andie walked into the room with two glasses of champagne in each hand.

"Champagne. What's the occasion?" he said, talking the glass she handed him.

"Darling, do we need special occasion for champagne? It's always special when we are together." She smiled sweetly and touched the rim of her glass to his.

"Get to the point, Andie." He took a sip of the champagne from his glass. "You know what I like about you. Direct. No bullshit."

Andie stood there, not moving, studying him with deepening intensity. "Why haven't you ever married?"

"Let's discuss that some other time."

"I tried the last two times we were together, but you evaded it."

Annoyed with her obstinacy, her topic, and her timing, Damon put his glass on the side table next to the bed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I gather," he told her, "that you intend to discuss it here and now."

"I do," she said, meeting his gaze, chin proudly high.

"What's on your mind?"

"Marriage."

He paused and Andie saw the sudden chill in his eyes, but what he said was even more cutting than his expression: "To whom?"

Stung by his deliberate insult and furious with her tactical blunder in trying to force his hand, she glared at his implacable expression. "I suppose you never intend to marry me, do you?" she asked.

"Andie, look…" Damon stood up and walked toward her. Andie wasn't likely to let the issue of marriage drop. If she didn't, he was either going to have to make it clear that was permanently out of the question, or he would have to put an end to their very delightful relationship.

"At least we know where we stand—for now." She smiled a little. "Do you ever love me?"

Damon said nothing. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Do you really want to continue this conversation?"

With a sigh Andie picked up her coat from the bed. "You are the hardest man I've ever met!" she told him bluntly. Trying to inject some levity into the moment, she sent him a seductive glance and added truthfully, "Physically, as well as emotionally, of course."

After a moment of tense silence, he said, "I will drive you home."

"No, Damon," she said quietly, "I can call a cab."

He didn't attempt to stop her leaving. He knew Andie was upset. Their relationship was over. Starting from this moment.

"You need to figure out what your heart wants, Damon," Andie paused at the doorway. "I want you to be happy." Then she walked out and closed the door behind her.

Damon walked over to the far corner of the apartment and up to the raised platform that contained a bar and several sofas comfortably arranged for conversation. He had chosen this building, and this apartment, because all the outer walls were broad expanses of curved glass that offered a breathtaking view of the Washington DC skyline. For a moment, he stood looking out, then he walked over to the bar, intending to have a bourbon. As he did so, his robe brushed against the newspaper that his housekeeper had left neatly folded on an end table, and the newspaper flipped onto the floor, a letter spilled out.

He bent over to pick it up. It was an invitation card. He was invited to attend Mystic Falls 150th Founders' Party and Heritage Display. The Salvatore family was one of the main Founding families in Mystic Falls. Giuseppe had attended some of the Founders' functions in the past but since they had moved to Washington, the Salvatore family had hardly turned up in those functions.

His gaze shifted to the words at the bottom of the card and for a split second he tensed with surprise. Elena Gilbert had kindly donated some paintings from her art gallery for auction.

A smirk amusement twisted Damon's lips as he read the invitation card again. He had heard that Elena had stayed in Mystic Falls, taking over her mother's art gallery after Grayson and Miranda Gilbert died tragically after their car went over Wickery Bridge nine years ago. He was surprised she didn't pursue her dream of becoming a doctor. Instead she took a major in arts at University of Virginia and then took over the art gallery after she graduated.

They would be bound to encounter each other if he decided to turn up at the Founders' Party. And she had broken off with Elijah. She was available now. No more boyfriend. No more fiancé. That made her totally irresistible. That made this invitation totally irresistible. It was beyond time for him to make his move.

Mine.

Determinedly, he reached for the phone and called Liv.

"Liv, cancel all my appointments in the next two weeks. Ask Enzo to deal with the important ones if necessary. I need two weeks off."

"What!?" Liv was stunned. "What's going on?"

"I need two weeks off," he answered.

"But you never take any leave."

"Things change, Liv. I need those two weeks off," he smiled before continuing. "And can you send some flowers to this address?"


	3. Chapter 3

Elena loved the look of her gallery. It had a discreet and classy curb appeal that fit this stretch of Mystic Falls, surrounded by all the boutiques, antique shops, clothiers, and eateries. The potted orange trees on either side of the glossy black door and the fringed canopy extending across the sidewalk were touches that made the gallery inviting to novice art aficionados, who might be intimidated by austerity, while maintain the high-toned ambience that serious buyers expected.

She had taken over the art gallery since her parents died nine years ago when they drove their car off Wickery Bridge. She and her younger brother Jeremy had been orphaned since the accident. Jenna, Miranda's sister had been appointed as their guardian. Although Grayson Gilbert had left a fund for both his children, Jenna had to take extra job to support the three of them. Life wasn't easy, especially when Elena had decided to take over Miranda's art gallery. Miranda was an artist and she knew she had to carry on her mother's dream. She did enjoy painting in schools but Grayson had always wanted her to follow his foot step from the day she was born. Going to medical school was out of the question because of the money involved. So Elena took a major in arts and managed the art gallery after she had graduated. Jeremy was now working as a mechanical engineer in Richmond.

Elena turned in to the alley and followed it round to the rear of the building, where she parked and entered through the back door. When she sailed into the small office, her assistant April looked up from her desk, a look of relief rushing across her face. "I'm glad you are back. The florist delivered some flowers."

Some flowers? Again? A dozen red tulips arrived since the start of the week, and the day after, and the day after that. By the end of the week, Elena's art gallery was beginning to look like a florist's shop, but as yet, no one had claimed credit for sending them. Each new batch arrived with a card that said simply, "Till next time we meet."

"Incredible, isn't it?" April murmured.

Elena frowned at her fifth batch of tulips. "I wonder who sent them?"

"Do you think they are from Elijah?" April asked, while searching the cupboard for a vase to put the flowers in.

"No. I haven't spoken to Elijah since we broke up. Why would he, all of a sudden, start sending me flowers?" She dumped her handbag and an armload of catalogues on her desk.

"Maybe he wants you back. I think he still loves you."

Elena opened the card that had come with the flowers. There was still no signature. "No. I don't think they are from Elijah."

"Maybe they are from Matt," April teased. "I saw the two of you having lunch at the Grill last weekend."

Elena rolled her eyes. "I have known Matt Donavan since I was a child. We are friends."

April grinned. "Every relationship starts with friendship."

Elena shook her head and laughed. "Trust me, they are not from Matt." She sat down on her desk and tried to get some work done. It remained cluttered no matter how hard she tried to keep up with paperwork. April had placed a few telephone messages on the desk. She sorted through them, but none was urgent.

"So what do you think?"

Elena looked up. "About what?"

"About who is sending the tulips. Aren't you curious?"

She shrugged. "April, I have got a mound of work here to attend to. Remember we need to sort out the paintings for the auction at Founders' Party this Sunday?" Elena had agreed to donate a few paintings from Miranda and her great grandmother Katherine Pierce to be auctioned at the Founders' Party to raise money for building a new wing for Mystic Falls Community Hospital.

Finally, some of the younger woman's effervescence fizzled. "Okay, I will check on the delivery company to ensure the paintings get to the venue on time."

"I have made the floor one thousand for each painting. I hope it will bring a lot more."

"I'm sure it will." The younger woman smiled. "I will go and check on the paintings in the store."

After April left the office, Elena looked around the office at the profusion of tulips, again overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. This was crazy. Who would that be? Her heart sink as it suddenly occurred to her that there was only one person she knew who would indulge in such extravagance.

Elijah Mikaelson.

She flinched when she recalled the night when she told Elijah she wanted to end their relationship.

 _"Why, Elena? We have been together for three years."_

 _"I know but…" she sighed in regret. "I couldn't. It wouldn't be right," she said with a firm shake of her head._

 _She had not noticed the pressure that had drawn her back against Elijah until she felt the warmth of his breath near her ear. She should have moved away from it, but she didn't._

 _"It couldn't be more right." The pitch of his voice was low and caressing. "We belong together." His lips moved against her hair, a feathery sensation gliding towards her neck._

 _Instinctively she turned her head to deny him access. "Don't"_

 _"I want you, Elena." His breath heated the side of her neck. "I know you want me as well."_

 _She wavered for the briefest moments. "No," she said, then more decisively, "No."_

 _In one quick step she was free of his arms, and in two more, there was a distance between them._

 _"Is there someone else?" Anger flared, hardening the grim set of Elijah's features. "Are you seeing another man?"_

 _"Of course not!" she snapped._

 _"Then why?" In one stride, he closed the space between them and caught her arms. "Dammit Elena, you know I love you."_

 _"I know. I have always admired and respected you, Elijah – and liked you. And that's precisely the reason I can't marry you."_

 _"You are not making any sense."_

 _"Maybe you would make me happy for a time…I don't know. But sooner or later, we would realise we aren't meant to be and it would be over. I have my own view of marriage. I want something that offer me the promise – or at least the hope – of a lasting, fulfilling relationship. Just like my parents."_

 _"And you don't think I can offer you that lasting, fulfilling relationship?"_

 _She shook her head and smiled sadly. "I'm the one who can't promise you a lasting, fulfilling relationship. You deserve someone better, Elijah."_

 _His hands relaxed their grip on her arms, then released her altogether. "There isn't a second chance, is there?"_

 _"You are a good person. One day you will find a woman who cares about you."_

At the age of twenty-seven, Elena was a very beautiful and attractive woman with an oval face, light olive complexion, almond-shaped brown eyes which were sometimes described as doe-eyes, and long dark brown hair. She had highlighted her hair with some red streaks and curled them after she had graduated from university which made her more womanly in the way she looked. Men were always seen fluttering around her like moths. But she only let them get only so close and no closer. After she broke up with Tyler Lockwood, she had a brief affair with Liam Davis, a pre-medical student who volunteered to work for her father during summer holidays that soon flamed out, ending long before it developed into a bona fide relationship. Neither's heart was broken. There hadn't been a scene or a formal breakup of any kind. They had simply stopped dating but had remained friends.

After both her parents were killed in the car accident, Elena had spent most of her time in taking extra part-time jobs to help out Jenna. She had also devoted a lot of her time and energy in the art gallery. There were few romantic flings of hers until she met Elijah three years ago in an art auction in Richmond. She had heard about Elijah but they were not formally introduced. His interest and knowledge in arts impressed Elena. And not long later, they started dating.

Losing both her parents at such an early age always made Elena longed to be loved. She recognised that there was no lonelier sound than laughter that was heard only by the one who laughed, that there was no hollower victory than the one celebrated by the victor alone. There was no such thing as independence when there was no one standing beside you; there was only loneliness.

She thought Elijah was the man for her. But somehow she felt awkward when they were together. When Elijah kissed her for the first time, it didn't feel right. She tried to shrug off the strange emotion by responding to his kiss in a way she hadn't even dreamed of in a long while.

Well, she had dreamed…of Damon kissing her. Damon kissed her well and deeply. Her body responded, and she pressed herself close to him. She wanted more. She wanted Damon to make love to her and make her forget.

Elena had not seen Damon in ten years. But whenever his name was mentioned, it had the same impact on her as it had the last time. Small flashes of electrical energy snapped through her nerve endings. Her stomach seemed to float in mid-air. The lustful night with Damon Salvatore was her secret she would never share with anyone, not even her best friend Caroline, not even her mother.

When Elijah asked her to marry him, she had agreed without hesitation. She knew she and Damon would never work out. Imagine how would the people in Mystic Falls react if they know a Gilbert and a Salvatore were involved. Elijah was the perfect choice for her. But as days gone by, Elena felt guilty, especially seeing Elijah sounding so enthusiastic about their wedding. She wasn't being fair with him sexually either. Once when she had allowed Elijah to indulge in what she considered to be harmless necking, he had become aroused to the point of no return. He was furious when she denied him appeasement and had left her house without talking to her for a few days. Though he had apologised afterward, she knew she was the one who was wrong. In sexual games, she hadn't played fair, and she knew it. Damon would always stand in between Elijah and her.

She had not heard from Elijah in the past three months. So why would he suddenly be sending flowers to her? Was he the one who sent the flowers? If the flowers were not from Elijah, who would it be?

"Till next time we meet" – what did it mean?

x x x

"Damn," Damon whispered in an awed voice as he looked at the Gilbert collection. The Gilberts were artists. Amazing artists.

He could feel every emotion on a painting of an elderly woman's face, a woman who looked like she was sitting on a bench at a bus stop, and he could almost share the joy of a group of children playing on a playground. Flipping through the rest of the paintings of people, he was dumbstruck by Miranda's talent. He was no artist, but the paintings could touch even his emotions, and he wasn't a particularly emotional type of guy.

Damon felt his mouth go dry, and his gut lurched as he looked at the last painting, a man and a woman poised to engage in a passionate embrace. This painting was by Katherine Pierce. The male's face was shaded, his head turned to the side, but the woman's desire was so potently drawn that he could feel her naked longing, her desperation as she waited for the man she was embracing to kiss her. Long, silky hair cascaded down her back, her head tilted for his kiss, her face revealing unguarded need.

The words scrolled beneath the drawing hit Damon with a visceral reaction:

Someone! Someday! Somewhere!

Damned if Damon didn't want to be the mystery man in shadow, the guy to kiss the woman breathless, provide the passion he could sense she desperately wanted. He knew exactly how she felt; he would have felt the same way. He sighed heavily and continued to stare at the picture, wondering what it was like to feel that type of passion. Yeah. Sure. He liked sex. What guy didn't? But the desire was short-lived and easily resolved. He had always known his relationship with Andie had been superficial, but it had always suited him. It was the same when he was with Rebekah when they were in university. What the hell did he know about love? But he was fairly certain he wanted to fall in love. He wanted a lasting and fulfilling relationship with a woman who cares about him. And he was hoping Elena could be that woman.

"Damon Salvatore. What a surprise to see you here."

Damon swung his attention away from the painting and turned to face a beautiful blonde dressed in a pink floral dress. She looked familiar but her name just slipped his mind.

"Caroline Forbes," she said, smiling at him.

"Miss Forbes." His head dipped in acknowledgement as he gave her one of his patented smiles. "Daughter of the sheriff."

Her eyes widened. "I'm surprised you actually know who I'm," she paused, her eyes sharpening on him with a knowing air. "I honestly wasn't sure Mystic Falls would see you again. I'm glad I was wrong."

"What can I say? I was drawn back like a moth," he replied, his glance slide briefly to the blonde beside him. Caroline was a beautiful young woman with a pale complexion, blue-green eyes and medium length curly blonde hair. But Damon wasn't interested. His eyes were on someone else.

"What are you doing here? Are you looking for property in Mystic Falls?" Then a smile breaking across her face. "Sorry, I'm a journalist of Mystic Falls Daily. I can't ignore a hot story landed in my lap."

"Do you consider me as a hot story?" he raised an eyebrow.

Caroline laughed, the large bangled hoops at her ears swinging with the movements. "Salvatore Corporate is one the largest land developers in the country. You haven't stepped into Mystic Falls for years and suddenly you are here. Isn't it strange?"

"I'm here to attend the Founders' Party," Damon countered smoothly. "The Salvatore family is one of the main Founding families in Mystic Falls."

"Then you aren't looking for more property?"

"I'm not here for that purpose, but I'm always looking. Just like you are always looking for a hot story," he smirked.

"I understand," she paused, then queried slyly. "Are you here by yourself? Did you bring Miss Starr with you?"

An eyebrow lifted. "Looks like you know a lot about me. Then you have the advantage on me."

She laughed again. "From what I heard about you, that seldom happens. Damon, can I call you Damon?"

"Sure."

"Will you be staying in Mystic Falls long?"

"It depends," he replied.

"Will Miss Starr be joining you in Mystic Falls?" She didn't seem to give up. "You have known her for some time, haven't you? Have you considered marrying her?"

"I hate to disillusion you, Miss Forbes…"

"Call me Caroline," she invited. "Everyone does."

"Then let me explain again. I'm here to attend the Founders' Party by myself. Simple as that."

"Would it be safe to guess your relationship with Miss Starr has ended?" she asked, eyeing him curiously.

He chuckled. "You don't give up, do you?"

"That's what I called the spirit of journalism." She grinned.

Damon laughed at that. "I like you, Caroline. Don't ever change."

"If you are staying in Mystic Falls long, maybe we can find a place to sit down and have a good chat. Things have changed a bit here in the past few years…."

His attention on what Caroline was saying to him, Damon looked around for Elena. Turning his head, he looked for the source of the voice, looked further, toward the main entrance... And he froze. With his champagne glass arrested halfway to his mouth, Damon stared at the woman at the main entrance who had been a girl, the last time he saw her. Dressed in a V neck, sleeveless white crochet dress, Elena Gilbert was a breathtakingly beautiful image of breeding and serenity. In the years since he had last seen her, her figure had ripened, and her delicately boned face had acquired a radiance that was mesmerizing. Damon smiled to himself and he took a sip of his champagne and nod at whatever Caroline was saying to him, but he continued to study the lush beauty at the main entrance—like an expert examining a piece of art which was rare and precious.

Jesus, she was beautiful, Damon thought. He should have stolen her away and made her his possession ten years ago.

Elena Gilbert was his private obsession, a woman who could change him from a rational thinker to a possessive, compulsive maniac with just one look. She wasn't trying to be provocative. She didn't need to. Elena was provocation personified to him, just by standing where he could see her.

And for the first time since he had seen her ten years ago, she was available.

Damon's heart squeezed as he watched her: smiling, yet solitary, just like him. He wondered whether she felt as alone, restless, and edgy as he felt right now. He almost literally felt the stopper on his desire pop free, leaving his body burning to bury himself inside Elena and claim her like a rabid caveman. His eyes narrowed as he watched her intently. He had to do something. He had to claim her before he completely lost his mind.

He cleared his throat, interrupting Caroline. "Would you excuse me? I think I should say hi to the mayor."

"Of course," she said, with just a hint of regret in her smile.

With a nod, Damon walked away and moved through the crowd toward where Elena was standing.

x x x

Elena thought this day couldn't be any worse.

The main room of the community centre where the Founders' Party was being held was decorated with bolts of brightly coloured ribbons and balloons. The centrepieces for the cocktail tables scattered about the room were made of beautiful white lilies.

Elena barely had time to appreciate the effect because, as she entered, the first person she recognised among the crowd was Damon Salvatore.

Standing next to him was Caroline Forbes. In a black shirt and suit, he was overwhelmingly beautiful and heart-stopping - in a very male, unconsciously seductive kind of way. Dammit, Elena cursed silently. She had to stop staring at him. She had to stop drooling over him. Then Damon caught her looking at him.

His smile settled. For several seconds they looked at each other. Was he wondering, as she was, why their paths were crossing now after ten years?

Caroline said something to him, and he returned his attention to her.

She sighed. Knowing that he was in the room was going to make what promised to be a long evening seem even longer. At least there wasn't a seated dinner to be endured. Only a few speeches from the Founding members, a video demonstrating the history of Mystic Falls followed by the auction. The few paintings Elena had donated to the auction were among the fifty items, including lavish vacation packages, beauty products, a luxury sedan, vouchers and coupons for fine dining in Richmond, and a shiny crystal bracelet made of rhodium plated metal base and clear Swarovski rhinestones.

"Hello, Elena."

Addressed from behind, Elena turned to see Matt and Vicky Donovan. Matt gave her a quick hug. She and Vicky exchanged kisses aimed at their cheeks. The Gilberts had been friends with the Donovans for a long time. She had grown up close to them in a very exclusive neighbourhood in Mystic Falls. Matt and Jeremy were good friends. Vicky was a year senior than Elena.

"You look beautiful tonight," Vicky said truthfully.

"Thank you. You look great as well." She smiled back at her.

"Did Jeremy come back?" Matt asked as he grabbed two glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

Elena shook his head. "He is busy with a project at the moment. But he promises me he would be back for Thanksgiving."

"We should get together when Jeremy is back," Vicky said. "I miss the time when we were kids. Remember we used to come over to your house to play? Your mum made the best blueberry muffins…"

Elena winced. Her heart still ached whenever someone mentioned her parents despite they were dead for nine years now.

"I'm sorry, Elena…" Vicky reached out and touched Elena's hand. "I hope you aren't upset."

"No, I'm not upset. The past is the past."

Vicky grinned with relief, but Matt had caught the meaning underlying Elena's words. He knew Elena well. The death of her parents shattered Elena's world completely. Although she had masked it well, he knew she would probably never recover from the hurt and pain of losing her parents on her eighteen birthday.

"Why don't we go and say hi to Caroline?" Matt asked.

"You two go," Elena said. "I will check on the paintings. I have promised the mayor to oversee the sale of the paintings."

"Okay, we will see you around."

Then they left, leaving Elena standing alone. She grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a large sip of her drink. She was weary of people trying to console her about the death of her parents, some seemingly determined not to mention her parents' names in front of her.

"It has been a long time, Elena." The velvety, rich baritone voice yanked her from her thoughts, and she looked up quickly. Damon Salvatore was standing directly in front of her. He was alone.

Being this close to Damon was unnerving for her. He was too perceptive, too discerning, and his penetrating azure eyes always seemed to be able to look clear down to her soul. It was uncomfortable for her and made her uneasy around him.

"Hello Damon," she smiled politely at him. "It's a surprise to see you here."

"Something draws me back here." His gaze never left her. He had a feeling he would be making a lot of trips to Mystic Falls.

"Mmm." Noncommittal. That was always a safe way to play it.

"What's the current bid?"

"What?"

"What's the current bid for the painting? The one by your great grandmother."

"The floor is asking for one thousand dollars. I'm hoping for more. Are you interested?"

"I have a bare spot in my bedroom."

There were a dozen implications in that statement, and none of them escaped Elena. "Maybe you should consult your girlfriend before you place a bid. What if she doesn't like it?"

"Mine is the only opinion that counts. But I welcome yours." He winked at her before continuing. "You have been listening to rumours again, haven't you?"

Elena, unable to maintain eye contact, glanced around the room quickly. Damon followed her gaze, then came back round. Elena said, "I think I need to check on the paintings."

"Let's go together." He placed his hand on her waist and gently led her to the area where the paintings were displayed. Elena caught her breath as she felt the heat of his touch. Being so close to him made her pretty damn edgy. But he smelled so good.

Elena felt the heat pulsating between her thighs just from inhaling his musky, woodsy scent, the essence of male pheromones that could make a woman drunk just from breathing him in. It was all she could do not to close her eyes and let herself drown in his touch, deep voice and masculine smell.

"Ever wonder who the man was?" He asked as he focused on Katherine Pierce's painting.

"Must be my great grandfather. They were a loving couple."

He looked her in the eye. "Really?"

"What are you trying to imply?" she asked with annoyance. Obviously he didn't believe her.

Damon shrugged. "Don't forget Katherine was also in love with Joseph Salvatore."

"She married my great grandfather. She was in love with him," she retorted.

Damon was unconvinced. "She might have married your great grandfather but her heart belonged to Joseph Salvatore." He smirked. "You believe she married for love, do you?"

"Marriage is sacred. Marriage should not be viewed as a lottery or a crap-shoot," she said sternly. "It's a serious step, and it should be treated in a logical, rational manner."

"Is that how you Gilberts view marriage? So where's the fun in it?"

"Because you're not interested in a monogamous commitment doesn't mean the others aren't," she said acidly.

"You think Katherine was in a monogamous relationship?"

Her jaw clenched visibly. "This conversation is absolutely absurd. My great grandmother and my great grandfather loved each other and they were happily married."

"Do you know you look sexy as hell when you are mad?" A smile curved his mouth.

To Elena's consternation, a fiery heat started beneath her collarbones and pushed its way to her cheeks. She couldn't remember the last time she had blushed. Junior high, maybe. Even more annoying, her skin prickled like mad.

"Elena, darling." Caroline pounced from the crowd. Elena swung her attention away from Damon, more disturbed by his suggestive comment then she cared to admit, and focused it on her friend. "Your paintings look amazing. I'm sure they can bring in a lot of money for the hospital," she said as she turned to look at Damon. "Hi, Damon. We meet again."

Elena hated the way Caroline looked at Damon. She hated herself more. She shrugged aside a little pinprick of jealousy. It was too soon for jealousy. What was wrong with her?

"I think I better put my bid in. I'd really like to have that painting," he said, smiling down at her.

"You can always raise your bid."

"I'll be monitoring it closely throughout the evening." He excused himself and moved along.

Elena had barely caught her breath when Caroline cast a reporter's eye on her. "You two looked friendly."

"He wanted to bid on the painting."

Leaning closer, Caroline lowered her voice. "I heard he broke up with Andie Starr."

"Who?"

"Andie Starr – Ben Starr's daughter. One of the bankers in Washington. Apparently Damon has no intention of marrying her," she paused. "I wonder who will be his next woman."

Elena tensed briefly. The thought of Damon with another woman made her felt sick. "It's not our business, Caroline."

"Of course it is!" The blonde exclaimed. "Nobody's sure what Damon is going to do next and he moves too fast. That's why he is such a challenge."

"You seem pretty interested in him." Elena glanced at her curiously.

A devilish smile appeared on Caroline's face. "He definitely has something I want."


	4. Chapter 4

No one top Damon Salvatore's bid for the painting. Elena gasped when she found out he had bid ten thousand dollars for Katherine's painting. Inside her head, Damon's words echoed. _I'd really like to have that painting._

Did he always get what he wants? Elena wondered.

Soon after the winning bidders for all the items were announced at the end of the evening, there was a stampede for the doors. Elena moved in the opposite direction. An employee of the facility helped her carry the paintings to a utility room where she replaced them in the crates designed for transporting them safely. Fortunately, a courier had been hired to deliver all the auction items that couldn't be carried out by their new owners, relieving Elena of having to deliver the painting personally to Damon Salvatore. It had been a long day and she was tired. She felt drained, both physically and emotionally.

When she returned to her house, she hadn't been able to sleep. She had tossed and turned in her bed thinking about his voice, his eyes, his touch and his smell. She hadn't seen him for ten years now. Elena had decided long ago that Damon was very attractive and oh yeah, the lust part had popped up suddenly when she had seen him at seventeen. Now, at the age of twenty-seven, she still thought he was the most devastatingly handsome, dangerous man she had ever seen. Frustrated as hell, her body still reacted like crazy when Damon was near her.

What time had she finally given in and passed out? Her eyes went to the clock, realizing with shock that it was almost noon. Generally, an early riser, she had never slept this late, even on the weekend. She slid out of the bed and went straight to the shower before changing into a turquoise blue top and black blazer. This was the first time she was ever late for work. Snatching up her keys, she slammed her feet into the nearest pair of boots and exited the door of the house, not even flinching when it slammed violently behind her.

When Elena arrived at the art gallery, she saw April and a man. Brightly April said, "Oh, here she is now."

The man with whom April had been speaking to turned around. Elena drew up short, and for a moment her breath stopped.

Damon Salvatore wearing a self-congratulatory smile for having jerked the rug out from her said pleasantly, "Good afternoon."

She found enough voice to return the greeting.

"Mr Salvatore was already here when I arrived to open," April said. "I wasn't sure what time you would be back but he was happy to wait until you got here."

Behind his back, April was grinning and bobbing her eyebrow. Elena could practically hear her saying _What a hottie!_

He was wearing a grey long-sleeve T-shirt and dark jeans, looking as good as he was when he was in suit. Elena dragged his eyes off him and asked casually, "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to hang my painting."

"What?" Her eyes widened to give him a surprised look.

"You heard me."

"Why?" She was too stunned by his request. Was it a joke?

"You are the arty type. I trust your judgement," he said, his voice nonchalant, though his eyes smouldered.

 _No. Not happening, big guy. If I get that close to you again, I'll get lost in your scent, drown in those baby blues._ Elena knew if she let him too close to her, the carefully built façade that she had worked so hard to perfect over the years would crumble.

"Sorry, we don't provide that kind of service," she answered and walked past him before walking into the small office behind. She sighed when she saw a dozen of red tulips on her desk again. When would this stop? She wondered.

"What is this? Are you turning your office into a jungle paradise?" Damon stood near the doorway.

"None of your business." She dropped her burgundy satchel on her chair.

"Who sent them? Tarzan of the jungle?" He wandered into the room but his gaze never left her face. "Your secret admirer?"

She gritted her teeth. "You are teasing me, aren't you?"

He shrugged casually. "Just curious."

"I have work to do, Damon."

"I know very little about art, actually." He looked at her with pleading eyes. "Care to help me a little? Please?"

"Damon, I told you we don't provide that kind of service."

"Why don't you help Mr Salvatore, Elena?" April interrupted as she poked her head around the office door. "I can stay and look after the gallery."

Elena glared at her before turning to face Damon. "Okay, I will help you. Let's go."

Smiling, Damon walked toward her. "I have the walls repainted first. But we can talk over lunch."

"Lunch?" Elena repeated, thinking madly for a way to avoid it.

"Don't tell me you've already eaten, because I won't believe you," he said.

She moved away from him. "Uh…I have work to do."

"You have to stop and eat something. I need to eat too." He wasn't going to let her talk her way out of it.

"I can grab a sandwich later."

"No. You need to eat properly. You are already too thin."

She looked down, surprised at the observation. "I'm too thin?"

Too harsh a word, he thought. He smiled at her easily and touched her arm gently. "All right, slender, on the way to thin." His voice lowered without his being aware of it, his eyes whispering along her skin until they reached her face. "A man likes to have something to hold on to."

With a deliberate move, she disengaged herself. "All right, lunch. Let's get something at the Grill which is just around the corner. That way I can get back to work afterward."

He was already leading her toward the front door of the art gallery. "Funny, I had the same thought."

She looked up at his face and saw things she didn't want to see in his eyes. There was something dangerous to her peace of mind there, and yet thrilling because of it. "No, you didn't."

The smile on his face had her blood warming. "Ah, you have found me out."

x x x

Neither of them spoke again until they reached the entrance of Mystic Grill, one of the most popular bars and cafés in Mystic Falls. The place was redolent with the aromas of fresh-baked bread and the yeasty smells of beer, the fruity bouquet of inexpensive wine. It was always crowded during lunch hour, and Elena realized there were several people whom she knew dining there. Judging from their shocked stares, they recognized Damon and were undoubtedly wondering why she was lunching with a Salvatore because of the feud between the two families.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she whispered to Damon.

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't give a darn about that stupid feud. Ancient history, remember?" He secured a booth and slid into the seat.

"You are right." She slid in across from him.

"Besides, I'm starving. I'm not going to walk further."

"People are staring at us."

"Yeah?" He glanced around curiously, nodded civilly at the people he recognised and then turned his attention back to the menu. "So what? You are a Gilbert. I'm a Salvatore. Put the two together in this town and you are bound to get a few stares."

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Nope."

"Of course, a few stares don't bother you," she muttered. "You are a Salvatore."

"You got that right."

A waiter brought a jug of water and two glasses. He asked if they had time to look at the menu.

"I will have a beer on tap and a fish burger with fries." He looked up from the menu. "Decided what you want, Elena?"

"A vegetarian burger, please. And an iced tea."

When the waiter had departed with their order, Damon leaned back against the seat and watched Elena. "Do you come here often?"

"Yes. The Grill is a popular hangout place for most people living here." She picked up the jar of water and poured herself a glass. "Do I look like I don't get out much?"

"Been a while. Just catching up."

"You and I don't have any catching up to do. We hardly even know each other."

"We know each other. We spent one night together," he emphasized meaningfully, deliberately trying to make her blush again.

Pointedly ignoring his sexual reference, she asked as she watched him expectantly, "So, how long, exactly, do you think you will stay in Mystic Falls?"

"Two weeks." Damon waited a beat. "But I may stay longer if things change."

"What do you mean?"

"I will stay as long as I'm wanted here." His eyes grew stormy as he shot her a look so intense, she could feel heat wash over every inch of her body.

Elena was actually grateful to see an older, dark-haired waitress coming to deliver their drinks. As the waitress left, she picked up her cup and took a sip of the tea. "What about your work? Can you take time off?"

"I have an excellent team in Salvatore Corporate who works real hard for me. I brought my computer and my fax machines and there's always the phone. I don't see any reason why I can't handle anything that might come up at Salvatore Corporate."

"Caroline is right," Elena said flatly. "Something weird is going on here."

"Caroline?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What has this to do with her?"

"She said there must be a reason for you to come back here but nobody's sure what you will do next and you move too fast."

"Am I moving too fast for you?"

"That's a very leading question," she replied as she studied Damon more closely. Something dangerous moved beneath the cool, controlled surface he presented to the world.

"That's why I asked it," he smiled, his eyes glinting with a wickedly mocking light.

Another waiter came to deliver their burgers before Elena could response to his statement. After the waiter left, they ate in silence for a moment.

"Where are you staying at the moment?" She took a mouthful of her vegetarian burger. "You said having your walls repainted earlier."

"I'm staying in the Salvatore boarding house."

There was a moment of acute shock. The Salvatore Boarding House was built in 1914 and was home to members of the Salvatore Family until they moved to Washington DC. The Boarding House was said to be one of the creepiest places in Mystic Falls. There were some crazy talks that the house was haunted by the ghosts of the Salvatore ancestors.

He glanced at her, brows raised. "What?" he asked amused.

"Uh, haven't you heard about the rumours of the house being haunted?" she asked weakly.

He laughed softly. "Don't tell me you believe that kind of nonsense."

Elena said nothing.

Damon blinked. Then his mouth curved slowly into a grin. "You really believe that."

"Well, the house was built more than a hundred years ago. Most people in town don't really go near the place…"

Damon's grin metamorphosed into a chuckle. The chuckle erupted into a full-throated roar of laughter.

She watched him, wondering if he was going to fall out of his chair. It took a while for him to pull himself together. Damon's shoulders eventually stopped shaking. He sprawled in the chair, one hand on his flat belly, and subsided slowly into a grin.

"Sorry." He didn't sound sorry at all.

"I'm glad you find it so amusing."

"Of course I find it amusing. Elena Gilbert believes in ghosts and haunted house." He chuckled. "Who would guess that?"

"If this is your idea of insulting me, I—" She broke off, stiffening in her chair. "Oh, damn."

"What's wrong?"

"Caroline." Elena stared past him toward the door.

"Caroline?" He turned to follow her gaze. At that moment Caroline caught sight of both of them. Her smile was the sort a woman bestows on a long-lost pal and she started across the restaurant.

"Do you think she is following me around?" Damon turned back to his burger.

She frowned. "There is absolutely no reason for her to do that."

"She is a reporter. She wants a story."

Her brows came together in a sharp frown. "You think Caroline wants your story?"

"Obviously."

"For goodness sake –"

"Damon and Elena." Caroline came to a halt beside the table before Elena could finish her sentence. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Uh, Damon and I are just talking about paintings." She knew it was a pretty lame excuse.

Caroline glanced at her and then Damon, brows raised. "Really? I never thought a business man like you is interested in arts."

"I'm not the arty type but there is no harm in learning new things. Right, Elena?" He asked amused.

Elena gave him what she hoped was a silencing glare. She got one of his bright just-try-to-shut-me-up looks in return.

"Have you eaten?" she quickly added to change the subject. "Do you want to join us?"

"No, I can't. I'm here to do some work." She turned her attention to Damon. "We should definitely find a time to chat."

"Sure. We will find a time." Damon smiled politely.

Caroline inclined her head. "Wonderful. Now I'll let you two get back to your meal. Have a nice afternoon."

She walked away toward the booth at the rear.

"I think I'm going to hide from Caroline for the next two weeks," Damon murmured beneath the hum of background chatter.

"And why is that?" Elena looked amused.

"She talks more than I can listen."

She tried to swallow a giggle. "Caroline does have some really annoying traits, but we've been friends since the first grade and that means something to me."

"Duly noted." He grinned. "But I bet she still drives you crazy at times."

"You are a dick." She couldn't stop grinning herself.

They enjoyed their drinks and lunch with companionable conversation. Elena had heard all about his accomplishments at Salvatore Corporate, but she was curious about how good he really was. She began questioning him about his work. By the time the waiter cleared away their luncheon plates, he had told her about some of his projects. She was impressed by his dedication and intelligence, his enthusiasm and, most of all, his courage and wit. She had no doubt that he was one hell of an executive—possibly even a gifted executive.

Damon swallowed his entire plate of fish burger with fries and finished hers when she couldn't eat another bite. He ordered them each a tiramisu and a second drink. The dessert was delicious, but she couldn't finish it. Of course, he was willing to polish that off for her, too. The man could put away a lot of food, Elena thought.

"How do you maintain such an incredible body when you eat like that?" she asked him, wanting to kick herself for wording it quite that way.

His eyes shot to her face, his expression mischievous. "Incredible, huh?"

She shrugged. What was the point in denying it? His body was incredible. "Well, it is." Incredible. Rock-hard and sexy as hell. The hottest body on the planet.

"I hate gym but I go for a run every morning and sometime in the evenings too. If you think I look good, I guess it's worth it," his incredulous voice informed her.

Oh, hell yeah. Way worth it.

"It shows," she choked out, trying not to be obvious about the fact that she wanted to jump his bones in about a hundred different ways. "It's one of the reasons that women like Caroline fall all over you. Not the only reason, but one of them." Oh, shit. Had she really said that out loud? She needed to bite her tongue.

"You sound jealous."

"If I sound jealous," Elena retorted, leaning closer across the table, "then there's something terribly wrong with your hearing!"

Damon said nothing for a moment. He tipped up his bottle, finishing the last of his beer. "Got an idea," he said after a while.

"What?"

"Why don't you eat at my place tonight? I've got plenty of food."

Her eyes widened. Dinner with Damon alone at his house? There must be something seriously wrong with her ears.

"Are you afraid?" He smirked. "Just admit it. I won't laugh at you."

"Why should I be afraid?" she argued. "I'm not a kid anymore. I – I don't believe in ghosts or haunted house."

"Okay. Fine. It's settled."


	5. Chapter 5

Approached by winding road and circular drive, The Salvatore boarding house was nestled in a pocket of oak trees. Through the car window, Elena gazed at the imposing double storey structure. This was Salvatore boarding house, designed by Joseph Salvatore. She had never been to this house since she was born. Rumours about this house being haunted by the ghosts of the Salvatore ancestors had made the children and young fellows avoided this house for years. Oddly enough, she wasn't afraid of this house. She was more afraid of the man who was residing in the house. She frowned, suddenly wondering why she had accepted his invitation to have dinner with him alone at his place. Somehow, she couldn't deny the fact that being in his company was anything but comfortable at the moment. However, being too close to Damon was way too tempting and dangerous.

She didn't understand him. She didn't know what motivated his behaviour. But she wanted to. There was nothing she wanted more than to understand every one of Damon Salvatore's secrets.

Damon watched the black SUV came to a halt next to his blue Camaro. An intense rush of anticipation swept through him. Before the engine of the SUV died, Damon already opened the driver's side door for Elena. The first thing he noticed when Elena walked into the Founders' Party was the red streaks on her hair. Ten years ago there was no highlight on her hair. But he liked it. Dressed in a printed paisley strapless dress and chambray embroidered shirt, she looked sophisticated confident and more womanly. She had seemed painfully young and naïve that night in the hotel. Still a girl in some ways. She was a woman now.

"Hello, Damon." She greeted him as she got out of the SUV.

"You are punctual," he said while taking a glance at his wristwatch.

"I don't like to be late."

"Another Gilbert's rule," he said neutrally.

"Why," she hissed, "are you deliberately trying to goad me into an argument?"

"Actually," he said with a smile on his face, "it was a complement."

"Oh," Elena said. Surprised and a little flustered, she moved one hand in a graceful gesture to indicate the Camaro. "Fancy car. Must have cost you a lot."

"Not a lot," he said casually. "About fifty thousand but it is worth it."

She was appalled, and it showed before she could hide it. "For that?"

"For that," he replied, and she almost thought she saw a glint of answering humour in his eyes.

Jesus, he could really afford to spend that kind of money, she thought.

"Shall we go?" Damon put his arm gently at her back. "Dinner is ready."

The living room/parlour occupied the mansion's first floor, its tall, small-paned windows looking out on to the tree-shaded rear lawn. Rich panelling of black oak lined three sides of the room while bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling on the fourth. A pair of wing-backed chairs, covered in charcoal leather, flanked the fireplace, the pair of them mates to the chesterfield sofa that faced them.

Elena wandered over the bookshelves. Yet she couldn't escape the sensation that Damon's eyes were following her.

"This place is amazing."

"You like it?"

"Yes, it's fantastic," she answered. But when she turned around with her most polished smile firmly in place, she discovered that Damon was now standing less than two feet away.

Much too close.

"This house was built by Joseph Salvatore." Damon's eyes never left her face. "Apparently he built it for Katherine."

"Do you want to start that conversation again?"

His smile was infinitely slow, infinitely seductive. "What I'm trying to say is they were deeply in love."

"I don't deny the fact that Joseph was in love with Katherine." She was starting to grow annoyed. "The truth was she loved my great grandfather. That's why she married him."

"It bothers you, doesn't it?" He smirked.

She blinked. "What?"

"Your great grandmother was in love with a Salvatore."

"That's certainly an interesting viewpoint. No, you are wrong. It doesn't bother me. It doesn't bother me at all because the truth was she was happily married to my great grandfather."

"Okay." He dismissed the subject with an indifferent shrug. "Do you want another drink?" He eyed her half-filled glass wine.

She gazed at him in disbelief. He could switch topics quickly, too. "No, I'm fine. I still have to drive afterward."

He moved a step closer. "There are seven bedrooms in this house. Take your pick."

She swallowed. "I'm pretty sure I can drive home safely."

What had he expected? That would have been too easy, anyway. Nothing ever came easy to him. He had a talent for doing things the hard way.

"Suit yourself," he said. "You are welcome to stay, anytime, if you wish."

"Uh, I didn't realise you can cook." She took a sip of the wine. The tension was too much for her.

"Man's gotta have a hobby."

"I'm with you on that." She smiled. "For the record, you can fix dinner for me anytime."

"Thanks. I'll remember that." He grinned. "I could do better for the crispy duck lasagne if I have more time."

"I think you have done a good job. I don't have duck that often but it had tasted so good."

"Everyone loves a good lasagne, but I have to say this one really is very special."

There was a short silence.

She tried not to be so acutely aware of him standing there so close to her, but it was hopeless. Probably time to go home, she thought. Make that definitely. She was about to mention that it was getting late when Damon spoke.

"Something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Umm?"

"What went wrong with Elijah?"

For some reason that was the last question she had expected. She hesitated, not certain how far she wanted to go down that particular road.

"It didn't work out." She cleared her throat. "Caroline said you are seeing someone."

"Were," he corrected. "Past tense. It's over."

"Oh."

Damon closed the distance between them and took her wine glass from her hand. He set it on a nearby table. "When Rebekah told me about your breakup, I said I was sorry but I wasn't."

She looked at him with a bewildered expression as the words slipped from his mouth. "Why?" she whispered softly.

"You want an answer?"

"Yes." She could feel the bookshelves pressing against her lower back. She put her arms out on either side and gripped the wooden edge.

"Because of this."

He brought her whole body against his warm, solid form, and cut off any words she was going to say when his mouth covered hers. She gasped in surprise, which gave Damon the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tilt her head and explore the recesses of her mouth with his tongue so thoroughly that it took her breath away. Her treacherous body took over and responded as if her life depended on it; her arms wrapped around Damon's neck and she surrendered to his embrace. He commanded, and she complied, letting him ravage every one of her senses as she responded to his dominant exploration, and revelled in it. Her female hormones did a victory cheer as she let her fingers slide into the coarse texture of his hair and yanked his mouth harder against her own.

 _Closer. I need to be closer to him. I need this. I need him._

She let her tongue duel with his, gave herself up to the moment. Damon was taboo, her secret fantasy come to life, and she let herself wallow in the passion of the desperate touch of his lips as he conquered her mouth. He brought her body to life for the first time in a very long time, and with far more intensity than she had ever experienced. With Damon, there was no slow burn from his passionate kiss; she felt incinerated, overpowered by his masculinity, the heat between them completely consuming.

Finally, he pulled his mouth from hers. Both of them breathless from the out-of-control encounter.

"That's why I wasn't sorry," he told her hungrily. His face was buried in her hair and she quivered from the heat of his breath on her neck. "Hearing your engagement was killing me."

Coming back to reality, Elena tried to pull away from him. "Damon, I –

"Don't," he growled. His arms tightened around her. "Don't tell me that you didn't want this and a whole lot more as much as I do."

"No, I think…"

"Did anyone tell you that you think too much?" he informed her in a raspy voice. His hand moved to the back of her neck, guiding her mouth to his.

She heard someone moan softly. Probably her, she decided. Not real cool. But she couldn't stop herself. She could feel her control slipping away. Would she care? Should she care?

The world tilted on its axis. She realized vaguely that Damon had scooped her up into his arms. A shiver went through her.

He put her down on the sofa and lowered himself on top of her. His lips went to her throat. She could have sworn she felt his teeth. Another zinging thrill shot through her. She was shivering now. The weight of his body crushed her into the cushions.

"Jesus," Damon rasped as he removed her chambray embroidered shirt. "Beautiful."

Elena knew her body had won the war between her mind and her desire. Her need for Damon was so strong that she couldn't fight it anymore; she didn't even want to engage in emotional combat over it. She simply wanted to devour him whole. Desperately needing to feel connected to him, wanting to feel more of her burgeoning sensual desires, she had responded with her instincts, and every part of her wanted this to happen with Damon.

"I've been thinking all day that it would be like this," Damon muttered into the curve of her shoulder. "I was going crazy waiting to find out."

She felt one of Damon's hands slide beneath her dress. Her heart raced but her brain rebelled. She couldn't do this. This was wrong. Completely wrong. Then she heard the phone rang.

"I think this is far enough," she pushed against his shoulders, desperate to get free. "Your phone is ringing."

"Ignore the phone." Damon dropped a kiss along her collarbone. "I've been wanting you since you got here."

"That's nice."

He went very still. Then he raised his head and looked down at her with gleaming eyes. "Nice?"

"I'm flattered. Honest."

"Flattered," he repeated carefully. "Great. Flattered. Shit."

The phone stopped ringing.

She swallowed. "I don't want you to think I'm a prude, or anything, but—"

"Too soon after your ex-fiancé?" He sounded concerned and irritated at the same time as he sat up on the edge of the sofa.

"Not exactly." She felt her temper rising. "It's just that in a lot of ways you and I are strangers."

"Strangers don't sleep together. We slept together, remember?"

"Can you stop talking about the past?" Irritation made the question as brittle as thin ice.

"Do you always talk like this on a date?"

"This wasn't a date we had tonight. We had dinner together, that's all." Elena hastily pulled her clothing back into place.

"Don't try that crap on me, Elena. You can fool anyone, including yourself. But you can't fool me," he said, with far too much confidence.

She glared at him but the phone rang again before she could respond. Damon stood up and reached for the phone. "Hello."

"This is Caroline."

"What a surprise, Caroline." He looked at Elena and smiled. She stiffened.

"I'm just wondering whether you are free to have lunch tomorrow," Caroline said. "I thought we could catch up."

"Catch up. That's sound like a wonderful idea." He raised his voice slightly so that Elena could hear the conversation.

"Cool, why don't I meet you at the Grill at one tomorrow?"

"Sure, I will see you then."

"You said you would avoid Caroline." She shot to her feet as Damon punched the button to end the call.

"Jealous?"

She shot him an irritated look. 'No, I'm not jealous." She paused. "I – I just thought you didn't want to talk to Caroline."

"Are you afraid I would tell her about us?"

She felt the heat rise in her face. Damn. "There is no 'us'."

He froze. "Of course there is no 'us'," he said through gritted teeth. "You are a Gilbert and I'm a Salvatore."

She opened her mouth. And closed it immediately when she realized she did not know what to say.

He sighed. "It's late. I'll walk you out to your car."

"Sure." She hurried toward the front door without looking back.

He watched her rush away. Nice going, Damon, you really screwed that up, didn't you?

x x x

Caroline dropped an overstuffed leather briefcase onto the vinyl seat and slid into the booth across from Damon. She was flushed and a little breathless.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "My boss wanted to go over some talking points for an interview we are doing tomorrow."

"It's okay. I'm early." He passed her the menu. "I have ordered an iced tea for you. Hope you like it."

She smiled. "Great, I love it."

A waiter approached their table with their drinks and took their orders.

Caroline took a sip of the iced tea and settled back against the seat. "So Damon, what have you been doing in Mystic Falls?"

"Ah, I know this is not a simple catch up."

She gave a throaty laugh. "Don't look so surprised. Everyone is curious why you appear in Mystic Falls suddenly."

"I had explained – I was here for the Founders' Party."

"Speaking of the Founders' Party, no one top your bid for Katherine's painting." She narrowed her eyes. "Why did you want the painting?"

"Do I have to have a special reason? I like it, simple as that."

"But you know Katherine and your great grandfather went back a long way. They had history."

"Ancient history."

"What about Elena? It's all over town that you two had lunch at the Grill yesterday."

He shrugged casually. "I just happened to be at her art gallery. We both wanted some company for lunch. No big deal."

"Don't you want to know more about her?" Caroline asked slyly. "Don't you think she is attractive?"

"I was told a gentleman shouldn't be asking questions about a woman," he countered smoothly. 'Don't get me wrong, I do think Elena is a very attractive woman."

"I think it will be interesting to see how you fare with her."

"Why do you say that?" He glanced at her curiously.

"I know Elena for a long, long time. She is," she paused as if to find the right word. "Special."

He smiled to himself. "Yes, she is special, very special," he murmured.

"You are interested in her, aren't you?"

He chuckled. "Which man won't be interested in a beautiful woman like Elena?"

She folded her arms. "You heard about her engagement with Elijah."

He nodded. "Obviously Elijah isn't her Mr Right."

"You know everyone in town is saying that you come back here for a reason. And seeing you with Elena makes people wonder what your motive is."

Damon went still. "What's my motive?" He was starting to get annoyed.

"Folks in town are sort of assuming that you are planning to seduce her in order to get revenge."

"What!?" he choked out. "This is ridiculous."

"Your family and hers have a very tangled history." Her attention swung away from him, centring on the subject of their discussion. "I have known Elena all my life. She is my best friend. I don't want her to get hurt. I won't allow it."

"Do you seriously think I would hurt her?" From out of nowhere, anger surged through him. "What makes you think I would do such thing?"

She searched his face. "No, I don't think you will hurt her."

"Thank you," he said bluntly.

"What's with you and Elena, anyway?"

There was a short, hard silence.

"You do like her, don't you? I'm not stupid, Damon." She reminded him.

There was another brief pause.

"So it's true?" Caroline asked.

"I think this conversation is getting a bit personal." He took a large sip of the bourbon in his glass, letting the cold liquor trickled in and burned his throat.

Caroline was quiet for a moment.

"You are right. Both of you are adults who are perfectly capable of handling your own private life."

He leaned back against the seat and studied the blonde in front of him. "Elena is very lucky to have a friend like you."

She blushed. "Well, you know, she is my best friend. I have to keep an eye on her."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yes, I know."

She straightened and leaned across the table. "Which reminds me this coming Sunday is Elena's birthday."

"Oh." Now he was interested. "So what's your plan?"

With a smile on her beautiful face, Caroline answered, "I'm going to throw a birthday party for her."


	6. Chapter 6

From the moment Caroline had suggested to have dinner at the Grill on her birthday, Elena had felt grave doubts about the evening. She didn't like her birthday. It brought back painful memories of losing both her parents when she was eighteen. There was a birthday celebration at her house on that day. Miranda had gone to the airport to pick Grayson back home from a conference in New York. Nobody would guess their car skid and went off the Wickery Bridge. Her life had completely changed since the day her parents died. She hadn't had any birthday celebration since then. Elijah was surprised that she didn't want any birthday celebration. Luckily he was very understanding and didn't press for an answer.

When Caroline arrived at her house, she looked so determinedly cheerful and festive, Elena was lulled into thinking it might not be a disaster after all. "Happy birthday, Elena," Caroline said, wrapping her in a tight hug and handing her a gaily wrapped box.

"Thanks," she smiled. 'Actually we can stay at home and get pizza. We don't have to go out."

Caroline shook her head. "It's your birthday. You can't have pizza on your birthday. Jeremy is in Richmond and Jenna is still on holiday with her boyfriend. You can't be alone on your birthday."

"But –"

Caroline grabbed her hands. "It's only a dinner at the Grill. Just treat it as one of our girls' nights."

She hesitated but she didn't want to reject her best friend. "Alright. Let's have fun tonight."

"Yes, it's going to be fun," Caroline promised.

Damon sat at the bar watching the large crowd that filled the Grill. Caroline obviously had invited quite a lot of people tonight. Soft jazz was playing in the background and the sound of happy chatter was prominent in the air. He was not ignorant to the fact that he seemed to be getting a lot of attention from many groups of people, particularly women. It didn't bother him. He wasn't interested.

He was having his second glass of bourbon when Caroline and Elena entered the Grill. He caught his breath. It was like seeing her for the first time all over again. Elena looked beautiful, as always, in a red floral shirtdress with matching dark denim jacket and black ankle booties. He tossed the bourbon down, stood up and walked towards her.

"I thought it's only a dinner. Just two of us," Elena scowled at Caroline.

"It's your birthday today, Elena." Caroline said, beaming at her. "You need to have fun, birthday girl."

"Elena!"

She nearly jumped as April's excited shriek hammered her from the side.

"Happy Birthday!" She skidded to a stop in front of her, a big grin on her face. "Look at you! You look fantastic."

Elena smiled. Then she spotted Damon walking towards her. To her it seemed as if the entire bar and cafe was overwhelmed by the sheer force of his presence. "Happy birthday," he said, smiling down at her. "You look beautiful," he added, running his eyes over her from the top of her long dark brown hair to the tips of her black booties.

Elena said thank you and tried not to notice how breathtakingly handsome he looked in a long sleeve burgundy henley, black leather zip-up jacket and dark denims. "How come you are here?"

"I invited Damon," Caroline answered. "I thought it would be fun. Don't you agree, Elena?"

She glared at Caroline as the blonde winked at her.

"Let's get you a drink," Damon pulled her along beside him and led her to the bar. "Here, sit." He helped her onto a stool at the bar and called the bar tender over before sitting himself next to her. "What would you like?" he asked.

"I'd like to be in Brazil," she mumbled on a ragged sigh.

"I beg your pardon?"

"A beer," Elena said, trying to decide what to drink. "No, something strong." She shook her head, negating that drink. "A martini," she decided with an emphatic nod.

"Beer or martini?"

"Gin," Elena said. "No, gin—a gin martini." She flushed when she noticed the glint of amusement in his eyes.

"A gin martini for the beautiful birthday girl and bourbon on rocks for me," he smiled at the bar tender.

There was a brief silence after the bar tender had departed with their drink orders.

"Am I making you nervous?" Damon asked quietly.

Her head jerked around and she saw him watching her. "No," she said automatically. 'It's not you."

"Caroline?"

She gave him a weary, laughing look. "I just didn't expect she would do this for me."

Damon returned her grin. "She wants you to have a memorable birthday. You are lucky to have a friend like her."

"I know."

"But I think I prefer to spend my birthday in a less noisy and crowded place." A smile appeared at his lips. "Jesus, Caroline has probably invited everyone from Mystic Falls."

"I think so," she managed, giggling.

He chuckled and looked about him at the bar and café filled with people. Without actually intending to, he made an admission of his own: "There is a place in Washington which I would love to take you to dinner someday."

Her eyes widen a touch. She drew a shaky breath when he leaned closer, brushing his lips over her cheek. "Happy Birthday, Elena."

"Enjoy the drinks."

She jumped as the bar tender dropped their drinks on the counter. Immediately she lowered herself from the stool and stood up. "I'm going to the ladies' room."

As soon as she reached the ladies' room, Elena walked over to the sink, bracing her hands on the tiled counter in a posture of complete misery. _Get hold of yourself, Elena._ She had never felt so vulnerable in her life. Only Damon could do this to her. And even so, she wanted him.

The realization hit her unbidden, terrifying, unacceptable. Undeniable.

She took a deep breath trying to calm herself before walking into a cubicle. The she heard the door open and a few voices chatting happily.

"I'm surprised Damon Salvatore turned up tonight."

She froze and held her breath.

"Oh my God, he is so handsome." Voice number two gushes.

"You can hardly miss it. But I wonder what he is doing here." Voice number three pipes up.

"Didn't you hear he had lunch with Elena the other day?" That was voice number two. "Two of them looked cosy together."

"You know her parents died nine years ago on her birthday and she hadn't celebrated her birthday since." Voice number one added. "Obviously something has changed. I heard from the bar tender that he paid for everything tonight."

"Do you think she broke up with Elijah because of him?" Voice number three asked.

"Everyone is saying he is planning to seduce her in order to get revenge."

That stopped Elena cold. Revenge? Her heart nearly stopped. Damon wouldn't do that, would he?

"So he is going to sweep her off her feet and then dump her?"

"Hell, she isn't that dump, is she? Don't think she is serious about him. Looks like she is just having some fun herself."

"She and her brother almost lost everything when Grayson and Miranda died. Damon Salvatore is a multi-billionaire. It's obvious what she's after, isn't it?" Voice number three laughed.

"The money is just a bonus. I bet he must make her crazy in bed. And I'm pretty sure he is better than Elijah in bed."

There was a burst of laughter.

Elena felt her stomach tightened. She couldn't listen to this anymore. She flushed the chain, silencing all three, and swung the door open and walked casually out of the cubicle. She smiled politely at the three women, all with some sort of make-up suspended in front of their faces, staring completely flummoxed at her as she made her way to a mirror at the other end of the bathroom. She calmly washed her hands and dried them before topping up her gloss, all in silence and under the wary eyes of the three brazen hussies at the other end of the ladies'. She waltzed past and left the bathroom without a word, her dignity still firmly intact.

Her heart was jumping and her legs were slightly shaky, but she made it back to the bar and café still standing. That was horrifying. Hearing those women talked about Damon and her like that had her more upset than mad. She had to get out of here. Right now.

Damon frowned and hurried toward Elena. Her complexion looked like death warmed over and her stride was shaky. He quickened his step.

"Elena?" He took her elbow. "Are you okay?"

"I need to get out of here," she gasped. Damon realised she was in worse shape than he thought.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. Just leave me alone." She pulled herself away from him and rushed out of the entrance.

Damon ran after her. "Hey, Elena wait!" He grabbed her arm and turned her around. "Are you sick?"

She shook her head. "I can't stay here. I don't want to stay here."

Damon stared at Elena, unable to comprehend what had caused her to react like this. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He stepped toward her, his hands outstretched, but she backed away. If she didn't want to stay, he was not about to force her. "Elena, you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

He took another step toward her and this time she didn't back away. "It's okay. You don't have to stay here. You don't have to do anything you don't want do." He reached out and took her hand in his. "Why don't you come over to my place for a drink?"

He thought she would say no. To his surprise, she nodded her agreement. He had no idea what had caused her to behave like this. All he knew was that he would do his best to make her happy.

Elena sat on the sofa while Damon made their drinks in the bar. Who was Damon Salvatore? What did she really know about him? Nothing. Except he had the power to turn her emotions upside down with a mere touch or look.

The big question was, did she want to know more?

The answer was a resounding _no_. To know more would bring her closer to this man. Was he really back for a revenge? She shuddered as the thought came to her mind.

"Drink this," he set the glass of bourbon on the table and sat beside her. "It will make you feel better."

Without hesitation, she grabbed the bourbon and tossed it down.

"I was being polite. I thought you hated whiskey."

For a moment, she remained silent.

"Care to share anything churning around in that beautiful head of yours?" he asked softly.

She took a deep breath and began talking.

"My parents died on my eighteen birthday."

Damon cringed when he heard her words. Losing both parents was painful enough for an eighteen year old. Imaging losing both parents on your birthday – the hurt would be overwhelming.

"I hate my birthday. I haven't celebrated my birthday since my parents died. Dad was away for a conference and he wasn't supposed to come home. But it was my birthday. He flew back because of my birthday." Her brimming tears flowed freely. "Mum went to pick him up from the airport. They wouldn't be dead if it wasn't my birthday!"

He drew her into an all-encompassing embrace. Her body was flushed with his, and they held each other tightly. He covered the back of her head with his hand and pressed her face into his chest to cushion the sobs that issued from her in short, noisy bursts.

"It's my fault they died."

"No, it's not. Don't blame yourself."

"They died because of me."

"Shh."

Comforting words were whispered across her hairline, along her temple. Then the words ceased, and only his breath, his lips, drifted over her brow, touching her damp eyelids. Elena raised her head and looked at him through tearful eyes. Reaching up to touch his face, she made a small sound of want, which he echoed.

A heartbeat later, his lips were on hers. Insistent and hungry, they rubbed hers apart. Their tongues flirted, stroked, before his dominated. It claimed and explored her mouth. Elena's hands met at the back of his neck. She threaded her fingers up through his hair and submitted to his kiss. He kissed his way down her throat. She angled her head to one side, and he feather her earlobe with his breath, his tongue.

She wanted him. He could feel it in the way she held him. The fine trembling in her body told him of her gathering excitement. He could not recall the last time a woman had shivered in his arms like this.

He was tight and hard and edgy now. Every muscle straining. He could no longer think clearly. The fragrance of her body was a disturbing, disorienting incense that clouded his brain. He knew that he was swiftly losing control, but he could not seem to work up any real concern about the problem.

She wanted him.

That was all that mattered.

"Upstairs," he said against her mouth and removed her jacket. It fell on to the floor. "Let's try real hard to make it up the stairs."

Her response was muffled against his lips. "Okay."

He guided her toward the stairs. Simultaneously he found the zipper of her dress and lowered it the length of her back. The top half of the garment fell to her waist. At the same time, he half carried, half dragged her across the hall. It was an awkward process. What the hell was the matter with him tonight? He usually didn't have so much trouble doing two things at once.

He had her as far as the stairs now. He heard a soft clatter and realized that one of her booties had come off.

She lost the second one just as he got them both to the third step.

"Oh, yes." Her hands gripped his shoulder, small nails tattooing his skin. She kissed him wildly. "Yes."

Slowly, he worked his way up the stairs with Elena in his arms. It wasn't easy. She wasn't helping him. He missed a step when she sank her teeth lightly into his bicep. He had to grab the banister to keep from falling. Elena was quicksilver in his grasp. She slipped and slithered around him. He groaned aloud when he felt her hand on the buckle of his belt. Halfway to his goal, he looked up at the landing. It was lost in distant shadows.

"Not much farther," he said hoarsely. He was lying to both of them, he thought. The top of the stairs was in another universe.

"Close enough." She had his belt undone now. Her fingers were on his zipper.

"Better wait until we get upstairs," he whispered.

He picked her up, settled her across his shoulder, and clamped one arm across the back of her legs to hold her there.

"Damon."

He ignored her breathless, sensual laughter. With total determination he took a firm grip on the banister and hauled them both to the top of the stairs. There he turned right and went down the hall to the bedroom where he lived since he was a child.

He went swiftly through the doorway and dumped her onto the quilt that covered the king-sized bed. She lay there amid the pillows, then reached for him with both arms. He fell on top of her. He kissed her throat while he rummaged with one hand in the drawer of the nightstand to look for a condom.

Suddenly he was off the bed. He undressed hastily. Just as he placed one knee of the bed, Elena sat up. She rested her forehead against his sternum and rolled it from side to side, rushing her damp lips against his chest. He unhooked her bra and it went away together with her shirtdress. Feeling her breast full and soft against his chest, he groaned, lost to the sensation of being flesh to flesh with her.

"Elena…"

Gently he eased her back onto the bed. He leaned over her and removed her underpants. He paused for a moment, his eyes focussed on her with frank interest. Then he bent down and kissed her just above the line of her pubic hair. It was a lazy, sexy wet kiss that prompted her to reach for him with unabashed longing.

He stretched out on top of her. Her thighs parted naturally. He slid his arms beneath her back and hugged her to him.

Then he entered her. As he sank into her, his hands slid over hers where they lay supine on either side of her head. Their fingers interlocked, and moments later, when they came, he was uncertain if he was trying to hold on to her or on his own soul as it was launched into a free fall.

They were twined together naked. Elena lay sprawled atop him, her head on his chest, one arm flung over his waist, one knee securely lodged in his crotch. He was breathing evenly and contentedly, idly stroking her hair.

"What are you thinking about?"

She smiled against his bare chest and said nothing.

His arms tightened around her. "Tell me."

She turned her head into his chest and nuzzled him. "You are yummy."

"I'm yummy?"

"Very yummy."

"Why, thank you, Miss Gilbert," he laughed softly. Eyes moving to her face, he added. "You are right tasty-looking yourself."

"Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls who straddle your lap."

Smiling, he reached for a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. "Do you know I have periodic and incredibly vivid fantasies of this in the last ten years?"

She found enough voice to say, "Of this?"

His hands smoothed down her back, over her ass, and as far as they could reach along the backs of her thighs. "Of you."

He levered up his shoulders in order to kiss her. At first the kiss was slow and methodical, his tongue leisurely stroking her mouth while his hands continued sliding up and down her back from shoulders to thighs.

She purred. When she felt the vibration of it, the kiss intensified. His hands covered her bottom and held her tightly against his erection. Provocatively, she rocked against it. He hissed a swear word, making it sound erotic. He slid his hands down the backs of her thighs and separated them.

Then he was inside her again after he sheathed himself, a full, heavy, desired pressure. Filling more than her body. Filling an unacknowledged need she's had for a very long time. Giving her more than immense pleasure. Giving her a sense of fulfilment and purpose that even her finest work had failed to provide.

They moved in perfect rhythm. She couldn't get as deeply into him as she wanted, and he must have felt the same. Because when he came, he held her possessively in place, his fingers making deep impressions in her flesh. She burrowed her face in the hollow beneath his shoulder and pinched the flesh there between her teeth.

It was a long, slow, sweet climax. The aftermath was as long, slow, and sweet.

Elena was so totally relaxed, replete, that it felt as though she had melted and become a part of him. She couldn't distinguish her flesh from his. She didn't want to. She couldn't care. She didn't even move when he pulled the sheet and blanket up over them. She fell asleep there, with him still sheathed in her softness, her ear resting on his heart.


	7. Chapter 7

Elena woke early the next morning. Her limbs were still entwined with Damon's, his arms holding her as if he had to protect her. She lay still, partly because she knew that if she tried to move she would awaken Damon and she was not at all certain she wanted to do that. Not yet, at any rate. She had things to think about and she needed to think without distractions.

Now that the chaos of passion had resolved itself, the first thing she ought to do was take a cold, hard look at what had happened between Damon and her. Life had suddenly become extremely complicated.

As carefully as possible, she inched to the side of the bed and slipped out from under the sheet, trying not to wake him in the process. Slowly, she put on her underwear but her shirtdress was nowhere to be found. Damn.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Startled, she turned her head around quickly and found Damon propped himself up on one elbow, looking as relaxed as a large cat after a successful hunt. "Oh! Um, did I wake you?"

"No, I've been up for three hours."

"Really? Because you didn't say a word." She could feel the heat in her cheeks "Have you seen my shirtdress?"

"Nope." He thrust aside the quilt and got up from the edge of the bed. "Who knows where did you leave it? We had a wild night." He winked as he put on his trousers.

She shot him a glare and it was obvious he was teasing her. She glanced down and saw her shirtdress sticking out from under the bed. With a sigh she shimmied into her shirtdress and groped wildly for the zipper.

"I'll get it for you." Damon's voice was softer now. He walked across the room to stand behind her. His fingers caught hold of the zipper tab and raised it straight to her back in a single motion.

"Thank you." Her voice sounded stiff and prim, even to her own ears.

"Sure. Anytime."

She did not dare look at him now. Instead she began to hunt for her ankle booties. "Dammit! Where's my booties?"

Damon did not bother to help her with her search. Folding his arms, he lounged against the wall and watched her frantic search.

"I don't think your shoes made it upstairs," he offered eventually.

"Good grief." She straightened quickly, shoved the hair out of her eyes, and bolted for the door.

He followed her at a more leisurely pace. She ignored him, horrified by the sight of her booties on the stairs and her jacket on the floor. What had come over her? She didn't do things like this. She must have lost it, big time.

By the time Damon got downstairs she had retrieved her shoes and her jacket and had the door in sight. The only thing that mattered at that moment was to escape from the scene of her wild, frenzied, totally uncharacteristic passion.

Damon's voice stopped her cold just as she was about to twist the knob.

"What happened between us last night scared the hell out of you, didn't it?" he asked softly.

For a second she could not breathe. She looked down at her trembling fingers. "Last night was a mistake. What happened between us was not right."

He flinched. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Anything between us would be complicated, Damon."

"Why complicated?" As he walked up behind her, he saw her stiffen in sudden alertness, defending herself against the steady beat of his presence. "Because you are a Gilbert and I'm a Salvatore?"

He touched the soft points of her shoulders, his hands settling gently on them, remembering the feel of her and feeling the tensing of her body. Drawn closer by her nearness, he brushed his lips against her hair, breathing in its fragrance. "I don't give a damn about the feud." He let his hands trail down her arms and follow the bend of her elbows to cross in front of her, drawing her back against him. She tipped her head to the side, as if away from him, but he found the slender curve of her neck and the vein that throbbed there. "I want you. You want me. Simple as that."

"No." She wasn't sure what she was saying 'no' to – to him, to the physical response he evoked or to herself? His words, his voice, his touch were all working on her, undermining the barriers she had put up against him. "This is wrong…" she whispered as he turned her into his arms but she offered no resistance.

"This is right," he murmured and kissed her, his mouth coming down hot and firm. And then he gentled the kiss, brushing his parted lips on hers in a light, exquisite touch that was so hard to resist. He trailed his lips to her ear and nipped the lobe, his whisper sending shivers down her spine. "I know you want to kiss me back. I can feel it. Why not indulge the impulse," he invited her huskily. "Stay."

In sheer panic she tore free of his mouth and then his grasp. She stepped back and could feel the door pressing hard against her back, her chest heaving, fists clenched at her sides. "I don't do one-night time frames."

He stiffened. "I never ask for a one-night time frame."

She raised her chin. "Then what do you want, Damon? What do you want from me?"

He was annoyed. "Dammit, Elena. Why are you being so difficult?"

"I'm not being difficult!" she retorted. "Is there a reason you come back to Mystic Falls? To get revenge?"

"You know something?" he said through his teeth. "I have enough of this bullshit. I want you. I think you want me. Can't we just go with that for now?"

For the space of two or three heartbeats, she went utterly motionless and speechless.

"Give whatever we've got going for us a chance, okay?" He leaned his forehead against hers. His thumb moved along the line of her jaw. "That's all I'm asking."

She swallowed. "I want some time to think about what's going on here. I believe that you should do some thinking about it, too."

He said nothing. Just looked at her.

"Is that a problem for you?" she asked.

"Hell, no. I can think. Do it all the time. Sometimes I have two or three whole thoughts in the course of a day."

"I thought you could probably handle it. And right now, I need to go home and get to work." She put one hand on his bare chest and gently pushed him away. "Seriously, Damon. Put some clothes on, or at least get out of my way. I need to go."

"Your loss. I make one hell of a naked breakfast," he smirked as he moved away from her and put on a T-shirt.

"You can save it for yourself." She straightened away from the door, composed herself.

"I will drive you home." He fished keys out of a pocket. "On one condition."

She jerked back around. "What condition?"

He walked past her and opened the door. "We will have dinner together tonight."

x x x

"Good morning," April said, her forehead creasing in a worried frown as Elena walked into the art gallery. "I'm so worried about you. You left without a word last night," she said as she followed Elena inside the office.

Elena sat down at her desk, leaned her elbows on it, and massaged her temples. Everything was wrong. "I had a migraine last night."

"Maybe you should stay at home today. I can look after the gallery." April looked worried.

"No, I'm fine now. I have a meeting with the manager of the museum from Richmond at ten."

"I'll bring you some coffee. You look like you could use some." April said.

Elena watched April leave, and she leaned back in her chair, feeling like she had aged a hundred years since last night. Guilt had haunted her throughout the drive home this morning. She had slept with Damon Salvatore. Again. By the time she got home she was a mass of guilt and fear. She had lost herself completely in him. Once again. When Damon asked her to give a chance for whatever was going on between them, she could not figure out the best response. They both needed to think things through. Getting involved with Damon Salvatore was the last thing she needed.

Probably be best to write off that last night at his place as an ill-advised one-night stand. She wasn't thinking clearly last night. Her birthday brought back too many painful memories. Sex was the best way to deal with a stressful situation.

It all sounded so logical. Why did she feel depressed by her own clear reasoning?

Elena closed her eyes, trying to banish the sensation of impending doom so that she could attempt to get on with her day. Every time she went near Damon Salvatore, she said and did things that she would never do under ordinary circumstances—foolish, wrong, dangerous things!

She thought of the way she had responded to him in bed, and bright colour ran up her cheeks. At seven-teen she had been awed by the fact that Damon seemed to know all the right places to touch her, all the right things to whisper to her, in order to drive her into a frenzy of defenceless desire. To discover, when she was twenty-seven, that he could still do it—only much more so—filled her with despondent shame. Last night she had practically begged him for a climax—when she couldn't even sleep with her ex- fiancé.

She needed to think properly. She couldn't trust her own judgement now.

"Here's your coffee," April said, heading toward Elena's desk with a steaming mug in one hand and a bunch of red tulips in the other. "More flowers again."

Elena sighed. "When is this going to stop?"

She snatched up the card that came together with the flowers and ripped it open.

"Still no signature?" April asked as she leaned over Elena's shoulder and read the message inside: 'Till next time we meet,' signed Damon Salvatore.

"Oh my God!" April screamed and grabbed Elena. "They are from Mr Salvatore."

Elena blinked at the message. The flowers were from Damon. Was this a joke? Why did he keep it as a secret? He was in the art gallery the other day and saw the flowers but he had pretended it had nothing to do with him. Anger, confusion and hurt converged her all at once. What kind of game was he trying to play?

"Do you think" - April tilted her head back to eye Elena thoughtfully – "he is in love with you?"

"That's ridiculous." Yet her cheeks felt unusually warm. "I'm sure you have heard about the family feud."

"My dear Elena, that's ancient history. Who cares about ancient history? Love is a chemical reaction. Either something happens between two people or it doesn't."

"Just because he is sending flowers to me," she said through her teeth, "it does not necessarily follow that he is in love with me."

"But you like him, don't you?"

Elena started a little. Her mouth opened but this time no words emerged.

"If you like him, go for it. Here's the chance," April smiled. "Don't ever let him go."

x x x

They had pizza and beer at her place—picnic-style, on the floor in front of the fire. Dining out in public would be more like a date. She couldn't handle a date with him. Not at this stage when she had so many unanswered questions. And she didn't want to bump into anyone she knew. Damon had offered to cook but she declined. Cooking dinner together and eating it at his place was too intimate. Staying at her place allowed her to keep a little distance because she felt safe in her house, her own territory. But she was wrong. Having Damon Salvatore around was not safe. She had been vibrantly and uneasily aware of his nearness throughout their meal.

They had finished eating and were having the last of the beer. Damon leaned forward and reached for his beer, surreptitiously watching her gazing into the fire, her arms wrapped around her updrawn knees. Sitting before the fire in jeans that hugged her shapely bottom and a sleeveless green lace tank top, she was absolutely breath-taking.

Now, as he watched her staring into the fire, he wondered about her stares at odd times throughout their meal.

"What is it?" he asked idly, and his question unexpectedly made her eyes widen. "Well, I know I'm yummy. You have been staring throughout the whole night."

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"The flowers."

"Oh."

She folded her arms. "That's it? You aren't going to explain?"

He shrugged. "I sent the flowers. No big deal."

Elena managed a look of angry scorn. "How could you sound like it is not a big deal? Why do you keep it as a secret? I don't know what game you're trying to play but I don't want to be a part of it."

He raised one hand and traced his fingertip along her collarbone. His finger grazed her throat. "Do you believe this is a game?"

She caught her breath at his touch. "Then what is it?"

"Folks in town are sort of assuming that I am planning to seduce you in order to get revenge."

She felt a knot in her stomach. "Are you?"

He continued to trace his fingertip along her collarbone. "Don't you think the revenge part is a bit childish? Why do I want to get revenge?"

"Because I'm a Gilbert. Maybe you see me as some sort of challenge. Who knows?"

He lowered his head until his mouth hovered just above hers. "I think we ought to find out, don't you?"

"Sex is probably not the best way to explore that issue."

He kissed her slowly, lingeringly. When he raised his head she saw the hunger in him. She felt her blood heat.

"Can you think of a better way to explore it?" he asked. Gently, but firmly, he lowered her to the floor.

She swallowed. "Not right at the moment."

His face was less than an inch from hers. He stretched out full length beside her, and she felt the weight of his body pressing close.

"Damon…" she whispered.

"Trust me, this is not a game," he barely managed to whisper before his mouth descended on hers.

He kissed her with a long slow warmth that gradually took possession of both of them. She gave a soft, husky little moan and slid her arms around his neck. When he slid his hands down the length of Elena's spine and up under the tank top, she shuddered against him. He felt the tremor go through her from head to toe. Her back was warm and elegantly contoured beneath his palms.

As his mouth cherished hers, his breath hot and ragged against her cheek. Elena moved her tongue across his lower lip. Damon groaned. The sound was like thunder moving though her, enticing her, calling to her. The knot of throbbing heat within her grew to such a point that Elena groaned. She had never felt this hungry before.

He straightened, peeled off his T-shirt in a single, sweeping motion and tossed it carelessly aside. His eyes never left her as he stripped off his trousers and briefs. He took time only to sheathe himself before he was on the floor with her, looming over her, caging her between his arms.

She could hardly breathe when he tugged the tank off over her head and unfastened her bra. A raw moaned escaped her parted lips as he stripped off her jeans and panties. And he slid one leg between her thighs. He shifted his mouth back to hers in a heavy, drugging kiss. She deepened the kiss and moved her tongue within his mouth. The moment that happened, she arched upward to meet his thrust into her.

Her world spun and deepened. Elena felt him move seamlessly into her, as if they had always been meant for one another. He slid his hand beneath her hips, lifted her slightly, the sensations intensifying until she tore her lips from his. With each rocking thrust, Elena went higher and higher. The throbbing tension in her core became so intense, she groaned. And, as if sensing what she needed, Damon thrust hard and deep within her. Throwing her head back, Elena cried out in relief as the gate within her exploded. She felt light, airy, only vaguely aware of Damon's breath next to her ear. His hips continued to thrust against hers, his male body strong and coaxing her to new height. She felt the rigid tension in the muscles and bone beneath his skin and knew that he was no longer in control either. His release crashed through both of them.

She could smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air when she opened her eyes. Damon was no longer sprawled alongside but she was warm, even though she was quite naked. She realized that he had put a blanket over her. Her glance fell on the clock hanging on the wall of her living room. It was almost dawn.

Someone was in the kitchen. She heard a cupboard door close in the kitchen. It was followed by the sound of the refrigerator being opened. A moment later silverware jangled.

"Morning, honey." He came to her with a tray in his hands. "Coffee is ready," he said cheerfully.

 _Honey?_ Elena pondered the simple endearment. Damon had never called her honey, not even last night in the middle of making love to her. Of course, he had not made a lot of conversation when they made love.

She sat up cautiously, holding the blanket close around her shoulders. There was some tenderness in her body and a bit of stiffness here and there. Only to be expected when you made love on the floor, she thought. She had never tried that before.

She realized that Damon was watching her with unconcealed amusement as he placed the tray on the coffee table. He had put on his trousers and T-shirt.

"Want some help?" he asked.

"No, I, uh, I'm fine." She grabbed her tank top lying near the fire place and put it on.

"I poured you some coffee."

"Thanks." Retrieving the mug from Damon, she sipped at the steaming hot liquid.

"I'm cooking. What do you want for breakfast? Omelette? Scramble eggs?"

"I'm not much of a breakfast eater. Just toast is enough for me."

"I'll remember that."

He said it so easily, as if they would be sharing a number of morning meals. She placed the mug on the coffee table and adjusted the blanket around her lower body to cover her nakedness.

Damon sat down beside her. "I'm not playing games, Elena. I sent you the flowers anonymously because I wasn't sure how would you react."

"Then why did you decide to let me know?"

"Because I don't want to lie anymore."

She said nothing, just watched him steadily.

"You still believe this is a game?"

She went still. "I don't know."

"Do you trust me?" He put his hands on the curve of her shoulders.

"Can I trust you?"

"If you don't trust me, just say so and I will go." His reached out to slide a hand through her hair. Warm fingers encircled her nape. His thumb stroked a line along her jaw. "I will leave you alone and never appear in your life again."

Elena stared at Damon, trying to decide what was the right thing to do. Dare she risk her heart and trust him?

"No."

He froze, his thumb on her cheek. "No, you don't trust me?"

Her heart won out. "No, I don't want you to go."

He shuddered and pulled her close again. "Don't scare me like that. My heart won't take the shock."

As she lifted her face, his lips were scant inches from hers. Elena met his penetrating azure eyes that burned with need, and a soft sigh whispered from between her lips. She leaned upward, her mouth sliding against the line of his. Instantly, Damon's mouth took hers, sweeping her into a world of heat and melting desire. As his lips slid across hers, rocking them open and claiming her swiftly, Elena surrendered to the power of him as a man wanting her. All of her.

For an endless time, they kissed. Just that, but passionately, breathlessly, until they were finally forced to break away. He scooped her up in his arms and headed for the stairs. Elena directed him to her bedroom. He kicked open the door and tumbled her down onto her bed.

"Do we have time for this?" he asked in a husky voice as he rained fervent kisses on her face and threaded his hands through the dark brown strands of hair fanning the pillow.

"It will have to be quick."

He kissed her throat. "That won't be a problem."

An hour later Damon came out of the bathroom after his shower wearing his jeans. Elena stretched and yawned and wished she had the day in which to be lazy and reflect on what had happened last night and this morning, to relieve each precious moment of it. Thinking of Damon's hand, his mouth, caused her body to tingle with erotic memories and renewed desire.

He walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it. "I will make some toasts for you. Why don't you take a shower?"

"Okay." She slipped from the bed and went into the bedroom. She took a shower, washed her hair and used the hair dryer. She put on a black and white printed airy V-neck tank top with a subtle centre-front seam detail and a gracefully draped racerback and matched it with a pair of black pants. She had never liked heavy makeup, so she applied some powder to her nose, blusher to her cheek, and lip gloss before joining Damon in the kitchen.

Damon whistled softly as she walked into the kitchen. "You look nice."

The way he was looking at her made Elena blushed and her knees go weak. Damon was the only man who could have such effect on her.

He held out a chair for her and poured coffee from a thermal carafe. "Eggs and toasts. Take your pick. If you want something else, I can fix it for you."

"I don't eat much during breakfast. This looks more like a feast," she said, eyeing the beautifully set table.

He grinned. "It's celebration."

"Celebration? Of what?" Elena picked up the coffee mug.

"You. Me. Us."

Without drinking, she set the mug down. "Is there an us?"

For a long moment – too long – Damon stared at her. "You tell me."

Elena couldn't answer. She wanted there to be an _us_. She wanted it with everything inside of her. But she was still afraid to believe his words, afraid to surrender her heart completely that would leave her defenceless and vulnerable.

Understanding hit him. She still didn't trust him completely. But he wouldn't give up.

He slipped his hands over hers. "Let's take it slow, okay?"

She smiled and nodded. "What are you going to do today?" she asked as she nibbled on her toast.

"I'm going to make a few phone calls and check emails. But I would be available before lunch. We could grab something to eat together."

"I have to go to the Lakehouse this morning to check on the repairs. I won't be at the art gallery today."

The Gilbert family lake house was a summer house owned by the Gilbert Family at Dunham Lake, located some distance away from Mystic Falls.

Damon frowned. "It's quite a long drive back to Mystic Falls."

"I probably will stay there overnight and come back the next morning. I need to get some paintings from the Lakehouse anyway."

"I will go with you."

"No, you have work to do. I will be fine." She tried to reassure him.

"No, I will go with you," he said firmly. 'I don't want you driving alone."

"Why don't you join me later the day?" she said on sudden impulse. "We could stay there for the night."

There was a brief pause. "Okay. I will get there as soon as I finish here. Be careful."

She leaned across the table and made a face. "Are you always this bossy?"

"I'm not bossy. I worry about your safety."

She smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. I will see you later. Have fun with your phone calls and emails."

"What I do at Salvatore Corporate is called work, not fun." He gave her his slow, sexy Salvatore smile. "Fun comes later, after work. I'll show you."


	8. Chapter 8

Elena sighed as the warm, humid air hit her body. It had been a busy day cleaning up the Lakehouse. It was almost late afternoon by the time she finished the windows in the living room were damaged by a fallen tree trunk a few weeks ago and she had to get someone to fix them. Her glance swept the living room, finding it exactly the way she remembered it. She and Jeremy had spent a lot of their summer holidays here with her parents. That was a long time ago. Yet, standing here, it didn't seem all that long.

She had dug up a blue bikini top and printed bikini bottoms and donned it, throwing on one of her t-shirts over the top. The water in the lake was beckoning, and she took the wooden stairs to the lake two at a time, eager to feel the water caressing her skin. This was always her favourite spot. Spreading the blanket, she breathed in the fresh air. Lifting the shirt from her body and dropping it on the blanket, she headed for the water.

The moment Damon realized that Elena wasn't in the house…he frowned. Her SUV was parked at the driveway but she was nowhere to be found. The front door wasn't locked.

"Elena," he bellowed, checking every room as he called her name. Then he saw the back door that led to the lake ajar. "No. No," he said in a husky, desperate voice. Kicking the door open, his eyes scanned the lake from the porch, and what he saw sent his heart into palpitations. Perspiration formed on his face as he leaped down the stairs, sprinting across the grass. "No, goddammit. No."

He saw her head went under the water, and he dove into the lake, not caring that he was fully clothed. The denim of his jeans slowed him down, but his horror and fear had him swimming toward her like a madman. Her head popped up beside him, and he snaked his arm around her waist.

He heard her scream, not recognizing him until she had swiped the water from her eyes. "Dammit Damon! You scared the hell out of me." She tried to break his grip, but he didn't let go, treading water as he kept her firmly in his grasp.

"Get out of the water," he growled at her, his whole body shuddering as he pushed her toward the lakeside. "Now!"

He pushed her in front of him, shoving her back toward shore. She sputtered as she started swimming. "I'm close to the lakeside. The water is barely over my head," she shouted as she swam steadily toward the lakeside.

"Move." The command was sharp, and Damon didn't give a shit. He wanted her out of the water, back on the lakeside, somewhere safe. Damn it. Didn't she realize she couldn't swim alone? Not ever. He hated swimming. He hadn't been swimming again after the day Lilian Salvatore drowned in the sea twenty-five years ago. The memories of losing his mother was too painful.

The moment she stood, Damon swept her up into his arms and carried her to the blanket on the lakeside. He laid her down and came down on top of her, breathless, more from his dread and horror of seeing her in the water than from exertion. He wanted—no, he needed—her compliance. He didn't care if he couldn't hide his emotions anymore. Having her under him, at his mercy, was exactly what he needed, and he revelled in it. Adrenaline was still pounding through his body as he trapped her hands over her head, urging him to take what was his, what belonged to him.

"Mine." His voice was feral and animalistic, his body pressing hard against hers.

"Damon?" Elena whispered, watching the turbulent emotions that raced over the face of the man above her. She hadn't seen Damon Salvatore lost control like this. He was freaking out about her. The panic and fear in his eyes – what had set off his reaction?

"You will never set foot on this lake again. Never. I hate this place," he said vehemently, water still dripping from his face and hair, his expression fierce, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs so quickly that he looked like he was gasping for air.

Her eyes widened. She loved this lake and she wasn't going to make promises she couldn't keep. She was annoyed. "This is my family holiday house. I love it here. You can't stop from me from coming here. You have no right to do that."

"I hate it," he retorted sharply.

"But I don't hate it." Anger spiked through her. "Now let me go."

"No. I'm not going to let you go. I'm going to kiss you here. Right here. Right now." He leaned forward and told her in a husky voice near her ear, "I'm going to kiss you until you beg for mercy, sweetheart."

Elena stared up at his ferocious expression, knowing that she should probably try to rein him in. He was reacting to fear and anxiety, something was making him act out of character. He was raw, masculine, and dangerous: a different side of Damon that she had never known existed beneath his smooth exterior. And he was completely irresistible. She wasn't the least bit afraid of him. Damon would never harm her.

"Uh, Damon, you're acting a little weird here…"

His mouth came down on her lips before she could finish the sentence. The angry and demanding passion of his kiss drove at her. She made a soft, muffled sound, and then her arms closed tightly around him and she was kissing him back with all the passion that had infused her anger a few seconds earlier.

"Don't move," he muttered against her throat as he released her wrists and jerked his sodden t-shirt over his head. Grabbing the cups of the top of her bikini, he broke the string between them easily. "You're so beautiful," he groaned against her neck. "You belong to me, Elena. You always have," he told her roughly as his mouth moved from her neck to her abdomen, licking a trail of fire down her belly.

She gasped with pleasure when he broke the ties that held the back and front of her bikini bottom together, parted her legs and slid between them, his tongue still placing decadent licks on her lower abdomen. One swipe of his powerful arm yanked the bottom of the bikini away from her, throwing it away to land somewhere on the lakeside, the strings broken.

Reaching into the pocket of his soggy jeans, he yanked out a condom, saved from the water by the plastic wrap and dropped it on the ground. Panting, not giving her a chance to recover, Damon stood and stripped his soaked jeans from his body, taking his boxer briefs down with them. Picking up the condom, he tore it open with his teeth and sheathed himself. After he finished, he was on her in a heartbeat, thrusting his powerful, naked body between her thighs. "You are so damn beautiful," Damon said, his voice rough and gravelled.

"Damon…"

"Tell me you need me, Elena. Because I know I need you. I have to know you want me as much as I burn for you right now," he said, his voice tortured, before his mouth took hers, leaving her unable to speak the words that she needed to say.

Elena gave as good as she got, her tongue tangling with his as he kissed her senseless. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she could feel his powerful body shudder as he entered and retreated with his tongue again and again, as though he needed to master her, conquer her, make her his with his body. Her legs went around his waist, her heels resting against his rock hard bottom, urging him to join them.

"I need you, Damon," Elena gasped as Damon released her lips. "I need you."

He plunged into her body, driving himself to the hilt. She closed around him and took him deeper still, straight down into uncharted depths and unknowable waters.

Removing his hands from her hips without slowing his pace, he grasped her hands in his, their fingers entwining as he captured her mouth. Fingers entwined, their mouths fused together, and their bodies joined completely, Elena's heart beat as one with Damon's. At that moment, they were exactly as they were supposed to be…completely woven and braided together, unsure of where one ended and the other began. She was teetering on the edge of orgasm, ready to plunge off the cliff to ecstasy. It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

Her climax hit her like an avalanche—powerful, wild, and completely out of control. Releasing her hands, Damon held her hips, plunging into her again and again, frenzied as he found his own release. He groaned, placing a hand on her bottom to keep himself deeply inside her, as though he couldn't bear to be separated from her.

Moments later Elena was completely spent, and slightly disoriented, not quite sure how she had managed to live through the kind of passion she had just experienced with Damon. Neither one of them spoke, nor did they need to. Her hands splayed over his back, stroking lightly, soothingly. She absorbed the feeling of his hot breath on the side of her neck and the brush of his abrasive whiskers against her skin.

Finally, her breathing and heart rate calmed, she murmured, "Can you let me go now?"

"No. You are not going anywhere without me," he grumbled, but his voice held a note of amusement.

"You are bossy."

"I told you I'm not bossy," he insisted, as he levered himself up on his elbow, and looked down at her.

"Okay, maybe a tad inclined to be over controlling?"

"Sure, but hey, isn't everyone?" He brushed his mouth across hers and sat up, disconnecting himself from her and disposing of the condom. He pulled her up, wrapped the blanket around her naked body, turned her position on his lap, and got to his feet with her still held tightly in his arms. Elena fought to get Damon to put her down, afraid he would end up straining his back by carrying her up the stairs, but he just clutched her body tighter, his hold on her unyielding.

"I'll never let you go," he told her adamantly, more of a vow than a statement.

Elena gave in with a sigh. She couldn't argue about that.

"I will draw a bath for you," Damon said as he entered the house and headed down the hall to the bathroom.

Before she could protest, he had put her down and turned on the water tap. "Take a bath. I will make something for us to eat."

"Damon, don't go." She reached out to hold his hand in hers.

"I don't mind joining you for a bath," he said in a cocky, haughty tone. "All you have to do is ask."

"What happened? What was all that about?" she asked gently. "I have never seen you like that."

Damon stiffened. "Nothing," he answered. Flat and final.

"Don't lie to me. Something was wrong. I knew it."

He just stood there, looking at her. The silence stretched out uncomfortably between them.

"My mother died when I was ten," Damon finally said. "She was drowned in the sea."

"Damon, I…" Elena didn't know what to say but she understood the pain of losing someone you loved.

"We were on the yacht that day. It was a beautiful day. Mum and dad decided to go for a swim. But she didn't come back." He paused for a moment, suddenly aware of how much he had missed his mother. "Apparently there was an undercurrent. She was swept away by it. Dad couldn't get to her."

She wasn't sure when she moved, she just knew she had to be there to hold him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed her face against his cheek.

"Her body was found on the shore three days later."

Elena's arms tightened around him. She wanted to ease away his pain and fear. It was lucky both Damon and his brother didn't go into the water. Then a bone-chilling thought followed. She couldn't imagine what would happen if Damon had gone into the water. He was only a boy and he might well have died in the sea too. A world without Damon. For the very first time, she considered what that would mean, how desolate it would be, how totally intolerable.

Gently, Damon pushed her away from him and held her at arm's length. "Promise me you will never go swimming alone."

Elena looked into Damon's eyes. She could see the fear and pain of the little boy who lost his mother. Leaning forward, she placed her lips lightly against his. "I promise you."

His arms snaked around her, pulling her hard against him as his mouth branded hers. Though it began as gentle and tender, the kiss soon escalated to hungry and passionate. Keeping his mouth to hers, he turned off the water tap and carried her out of the bathroom. She curled her arms around his broad shoulders and snuggled her face in the crook of his neck as they headed to one of the bedrooms.

Giving in to a sudden urge of reckless daring, she tasted his earlobe, sucking it between her lips and bathing it with the tip of her tongue. When a deep groan issued from him and his step faltered, she smiled.

"Unless you want me to drop you, you better stop that," he said, but his voice quivered with husky desire.

"I will take my chance," she murmured into his ear and repeated the tantalizing play.

His breath caught, then escaped on a long sigh. "That means payback, you know."

"I'm counting on it," she purred.

"You, my dear, are a seductive witch," he said as he laid her on the bed and hovered above her. "It's payback time. Now."

The sound of a heavy engine lumbering down the drive toward the house woke him. He opened his eyes and turned to the other side of the bed. It was empty. He could hear the shower running next door. He slipped out of bed and reached for his pants and t-shirt.

Outside the large vehicle had come to a halt. The motor shut down.

He crossed the living room, opened the front door and went out onto the porch. It was a late-model Mercedes. The Mercedes halted in front of the steps. The door on the driver's side opened. An attractive, athletic-looking woman with stylishly cut honey-brown hair got out. She wore a pair of expensively tailored trousers and a pale silk shirt. Silver gleamed discreetly in her ears. A designer scarf in a subdued mauve print framed her long neck.

"Hello." She came around the front of the Mercedes with long, purposeful strides. "I'm looking for Miss Elena Gilbert. My name is Sloan Harrison. I had spoken to her last week."

She was moving more quickly now, coming up the steps, heading toward him. "This is my card. I really want to speak to her. Is she around?"

Damon took the card and read it. "You are a property agent."

"Yes, I'm indeed. Mind if I come in?" She swept through the door of the cottage before he could response.

"This is really nice and cosy." Sloan surveyed the interior with a smile.

"Why are you here, Miss Harrison?" He propped one shoulder against the wall and folded his arms.

"I need to talk to Miss Gilbert. And you are?"

"A friend."

"Oh. Is Miss Gilbert around? Her assistant told me she is here." She glanced around the cottage searching for Elena.

"Who's here, Damon?" Elena appeared in the hallway. She frowned when she saw Sloan. "Miss Harrison."

"Miss Gilbert. I have been trying to get hold of you in the last few days." Sloan walked toward her.

"I have been busy," she lied.

"We can discuss here if you don't mind…"

"No," Elena countered. "There is nothing to discuss. I told you over the phone. This house is a family property. I'm not selling it."

"We can discuss about the price again if you aren't happy about it." She pulled out an envelope from her leather bag. "You can have a look at the contract first and then…"

"Miss Harrison, please listen carefully. I'm not selling this place," Elena said firmly.

"But…"

"I think Elena has made it very clear." Damon walked toward Sloan. "I will walk you out to your car."

Sloan blinked rapidly once or twice, realising she couldn't do much anymore. "If you ever change your mind, Miss Gilbert, please contact me." She turned away from the living room and started toward the front door.

Damon looked at Elena but she said nothing.

He caught up with Sloan as she reached her car. "Why does your company want this property?"

"This is confidential. I can't tell you." Sloan glared at him, got into the Mercedes and drove away.

As he watched the car disappeared, Damon tried to think who would be interested in buying the Lakehouse. Tourism was a growing field in Mystic Falls and there were new hotels and resorts being built in recent years. Dunham Lake was located some distance from Mystic Falls but this beautiful lake would definitely be a popular vacation area in the near future. Someone must have noticed the potential of this place.

"She has been hassling me for the last few weeks," Elena said.

He turned around slowly, wondering how long she had been standing there on the porch.

"Ever going to change your mind?" he questioned.

Elena shook her head. "This place is a family property. This is where Katherine did all her paintings before she married my great grandfather."

"Did she stop painting after she married?"

"No but she stopped coming here to paint," she explained. "Maybe it was too far away from Mystic Falls. My grandfather had rebuilt the cottage years later and since then our family has spent most of our summer holidays here."

"It's a beautiful place," Damon said.

"Very. I'm glad they haven't built a lot of hotels and condominiums along the lake. It would spoil the natural beauty of it." Her comment drew a low chuckle from him.

"And I'm glad not everyone shares that opinion or I would be out of business along with many other developers."

"That's what you do, isn't it?" she realised with a trace of chagrin. "Build fabulously large resort complexes."

"For many years I have realised that people love to play – young, old, rich, and poor – everyone in between." He paused, his gaze turning thoughtfully to their surroundings, a seriousness in his expression she rarely saw. "Whether the times are good or bad, they still play. If anything, the need to escape becomes even stronger during the bad times – the wars and depressions. That's why they flock to the beaches and the mountains – or anywhere they can be surrounded by beauty, atmospheres, and preferably, luxury."

"Which is exactly what the Salvatore Corporate provides," Elena said.

"Hmm, hmm."

"Well, there won't be any luxurious resort on this land where you are standing."

"You are right." He looked around the beautiful scenery. "I haven't heard the Pierce family owned many lands in Mystic Falls."

"No, the Pierce family was originally from New Mexico. They were in clothing business for generations." She looked at him curiously. "Why?"

He shrugged casually. "Just curious. That's all."

"Katherine was a born artist. She had painted some of the most amazing drawings here."

"Yes, she was." He recalled how her painting had touched his emotion when he first saw it.

"I'm not sure about you but I'm starving. It's almost six-thirty now. Ready to work on dinner?" She turned and disappeared into the cottage.

Elena's words echoed in his head. The Pierce family was in clothing business. Katherine owned this property before she married Jonathan Gilbert. He frowned as many questions going around his head. He quickly pulled out his phone and punched the numbers to Enzo's private line.

The call was answered on the first ring. "Damon, are you finally bored of your holiday?" Enzo chuckled. "When are you coming back?"

"Check something for me," he said as he checked his watch. "And call me back as soon as you can."


	9. Chapter 9

"This would be so much more fun if we were naked," Damon grumbled as he helped Elena to carry the boxes down the ladder from the attic. "But we are now fully clothed, carrying boxes."

Elena laughed. "Can't you think of something else besides sex?"

"Not when I'm with you." He grinned as he stacked the boxes in the middle of the bedroom floor. "Jesus, how many boxes are there? Katherine must like shopping a lot," he exclaimed as he inspected the number of boxes there.

She punched him lightly on his arm. "She was my great grandmother. Stop insulting my family."

"Are you finding some golden goodies?" he asked teasingly.

"You bet!" she answered as she showed him a sketchpad. "Katherine was truly very talented."

He reached for the sketchpad and examined the drawings for a while. He discovered that the longer he studied them, the more he wanted to look at them. "Damn. She was good. Very, very good."

"Yes, she was very good."

"What are you going to do with her drawings?" He handed the sketchpad back to her.

"A museum from Richmond is interested in putting on a show of my mum's work. I'm considering showing some of Katherine's paintings at the same time." She looked around the boxes. "I just have to find some good ones for the show."

"Do you paint?"

"What?" She was startled by his question. "No, I'm not an artist."

"Have you tried?"

"Uhh, I did enjoy painting when I was younger but dad had always wanted me to become a doctor."

"So you gave it up?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I guess so," she answered. "Science and arts don't seem to mix quite well."

"Then why did you give up being a doctor?"

There was a brief pause. "I can't give up the art gallery. My mum had spent a lot of effort and time in it."

Damon looked at the woman in front. The death of Elena's parents must have changed her life completely. He ached for her, wanting to hold her in his arms and telling her he would give her anything she wanted in this world.

"You know what they say," she continued with a smile," there is always blessing in disguise. I love managing the art gallery. I like to be surrounded by drawings and paintings."

"Maybe you are an arty type. You just didn't realise it because your father wanted you to become a doctor. It was like something you had to do."

"Maybe," she said slowly. "Salvatore Corporate must have been like that for you all these years. Something you have to do."

He picked up one of the boxes and carried it to a large table in the room. "Maybe I just wanted to prove that a Salvatore could do well. We were not just wild and unruly like what the Gilberts thought"

She looked at his direction. "Are you telling me that everything you've accomplished, all your success, happened just because you felt a sense of competition with my family?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I grew up knowing that you Gilberts were smart, disciplined and organised in everything you guys did. And why couldn't we Salvatores be the same?"

She did not respond to that. There was no need. They both knew each other's family histories as well as they knew their own. Joseph Salvatore was well known for his wildness whereas Jonathan Gilbert was educated, well-versed in science, and extraordinarily pleasing to the eyes.

"What's this?" Damon pulled out a book from the box. The slim volume was bound in a rose-coloured cloth, its edges threadbare and worn. "Looks like a diary to me."

"It was Katherine's diary." Elena took the diary from him and absently smoothed her hand over the diary's cloth cover. She, oddly, was reluctant to open the book and read her great grandmother's innermost thoughts. Somehow it seemed an invasion.

"Do you want me to leave you alone to read this?" Damon asked softly.

She glanced up and met his gaze. This was Damon. She knew she could trust him. "No, I want you to stay."

Damon smiled and held her hand in his as she opened the diary. For a moment they stared at the small, neat handwriting, each letter precisely and perfectly formed. Then they began to read.

x x x

 _November 1, 1912_

 _It's almost five years now since our family move to Mystic Falls. I love it here, much better than New Mexico. The beautiful scenery and the wonderful people here – they are my drive to keep on painting. The other day I managed to draw a picture of Mrs Gilbert sitting in a wicker chair in her living room when father brought me along to their house. Mr Gilbert and Jonathan were trying out the suits. They were very impressed with father's skills. Jonathan was smiling at me. He has been talking to me a lot in the last one year. Pearl thinks he likes me. The Gilbert family is one of my father's customers and they seem to be fairly wealthy. Jonathan is smart and he is a doctor. My parents like him a lot too._

 _December 23 1912_

 _Christmas is around the corner. It's snowing now in Mystic Falls. I'm getting a lot of drawings done in the last few days because of the snow. I need to get more sketchpads for my drawing._

 _And I couldn't believe who I saw this morning when I went to town. Joseph Salvatore. I have to assume it's just a coincidence. He was flashing that smile at me and I went completely brain dead, unable to find even one intelligent thing to say to him. Why does he have to be so handsome…and tall? Everything about the man is just…too much._

 _The Salvatore family own the ranch in Mystic Falls. Joseph is the eldest and the only son in the family. Father has made some clothes for his family but he doesn't seem to think highly of the family. Arrogant, wild and unruly – that's how father describe the family. But I don't agree. Joseph introduced himself when I had met him in the grocery shop five years ago. He made my palms damp and my mouth went dry the moment I saw him. When he reached out his hand and introduced himself, I had to wipe my hand on my dress before I stammered my name to him like a complete idiot._

 _Since then I have encountered him with increasing regularity in the checkout line at the grocery store, and at the tiny bookshop. I'm impressed that Joseph is actually a voracious reader despite growing up in a ranch. Initially we only smiled at each other politely but a few months later after running into him in the bookshop, Joseph had invited me to join him for a cup of tea in his ranch. The conversation had concerned such riveting matters as the weather and the latest novels we had each read but eventually we became friends._

 _Joseph is fun and full of surprises. I can never guess what's in his mind. He could always make me laugh. I share my passion of painting with him. I told him I wanted to become an artist._ _I'm not quite sure why I told him. I tell so few people because it's laughable that a woman can become an artist. Joseph just smiled, but it wasn't a mocking one. Then he told me sincerely that he thought I'd make a great artist. And I believe him._

 _January 1 1913_

 _Jonathan asked me to go to the Mystic Falls New Year Party with him as his date. My parents are very excited about it and mother had asked me to wear the green evening dress. But I'm not that excited. I want to go to the New Year Party but I want to go with Joseph. I haven't seen him since that day in town. What did he do during Christmas and Boxing day? How did he celebrate New Year?_

 _February 20 1913_

 _I haven't seen Joseph for a few weeks. He had been busy with the work at the ranch. But I managed to see him this afternoon at the grocery store. I have missed him._

 _Joseph said something to me today that I thought was strange. He said his friendship with me made him want to be a better man. I'm not sure what that was all about and he just shrugged casually when I asked him what he meant. How much better could he be? He works so hard for his family. Does he think being rich makes a man good? If so, I wish he wouldn't think that. Joseph Salvatore is fine just the way he is. He's perfect. I just wish he didn't have to work so hard. I just want him to be there with me when I need him._

 _June 5 1913_

 _It's my birthday today and something happened today, something extraordinary. Joseph gave me a single red rose…and then he kissed me. It wasn't the usual peck on the cheek he gives me as a friend. It was a real, hot, wet, toe-curling kiss that made my heart pound and my body burn for more. We both came out of the kiss panting. I'm sure I looked dazed and confused because that's how I felt. Joseph looked horrified. He cursed and started rambling about how he hadn't meant to do that and how I deserved so much better. He said I should have dozens of roses instead of just one. I told him that one red rose was so much better than anything anyone could ever do for me because it came from him. I cried. I couldn't help it. So he kissed me again…and again._

 _July 1 1913_

 _Jonathan invited our family to his house for dinner. My family is thrilled. I like Jonathan. I feel comfortable with him but there is no passion. I was horrified when I Jonathan asked me to marry him. I didn't know what to say. He seemed to notice my uncertainties and told me he would give me some time to think about it._

 _I wanted to talk to Joseph but he has gone to Richmond for a business trip. He won't be back until end of the month. I can't marry Jonathan. No, I can't!_

 _What am I supposed to do?_

 _August 10 1913_

 _Something wonderful happened today!_

 _Joseph brought me to Dunham Lake this morning. The scenery is so breath-taking and this is an excellent place for painting. There is a lovely cottage near the lake and Joseph called it the Lakehouse. I really love it there. I was in tears when he told me I could come here to paint whenever I wish. He had built the cottage for me. That's the reason he has been working so hard. It is the best gift I have ever had in my entire life! I kissed him so hard until we were both breathless._

 _Oct 25 1913_

 _Joseph and I have been a couple for almost four months now and he still won't do "the deed" with me. I want to. I've told him that. My body responds to his every touch, every kiss. I love him so much it hurts, but I haven't told him because he hasn't said it either and I'm not sure he wants to hear it. He says I purr like a kitten when he touches me, kisses me. Sadly, I think I do, but it's rather embarrassing. Not that I have a lot of experience, but I don't think any man can kiss like Joseph. He knows that I'm a virgin. I told him. He says he's afraid to touch me sometimes because I'm too pure, too good. If only he knew the dreams I have about him. He wouldn't think I was so very good at all. I love him so much and I want him to be my first. My only. I want to tell him that I love him, but I'm scared. What if he doesn't feel the same way?_

 _December 1 1913_

 _Jonathan asked me to marry him again today. I didn't know how to answer him. He has been a perfect gentleman, always tender and polite around my family and me. My family really likes him. Mother even told me the other night Jonathan is a perfect husband and I should not let go of this opportunity. I was quiet and mother seemed to know what is going on between Joseph and me. She told me Joseph won't be the man for me and she could see it. Did she really think I do not have a future with Joseph?_

 _I felt better this afternoon after seeing Joseph at the Lakehouse. He told me he is going to build a house for me in Mystic Falls. He wants me to live like a princess. But he doesn't understand I don't need to live like a princess. I only want him to be with me all the time. I don't want him to work so hard._

 _December 24 1913_

 _I'm alone again, as I've always been. Joseph has been busy again. He won't be back in Mystic Falls until after New Year. Did he really care about me? Mother said to me the other day, "true love is not real, unless it is returned." On the other hand, Jonathan is always there for me and I should definitely give him a chance._

 _Pearl came to our house to give us a nice fruitcake for the Christmas. She told me her father saw Joseph hanging out with a woman in Richmond. In that moment, my heart shattered into a million pieces. Was I really that stupid, that naïve? Did I really think that Joseph Salvatore was doing anything other than playing a game with me? It was all just a lie._

 _January 25 1914_

 _I have avoided Joseph since he came back to Mystic Falls. I didn't want to see him. He lied to me. I want nothing to do with him. Mother was right. Jonathan is a better man for me. So I have agreed to go out with him._

 _Never again I will trust Joseph Salvatore. Never again._

 _February 27 1914_

 _I shouldn't have gone to the Lakehouse. I thought I could get some painting done there. I haven't been able to concentrate recently. The Lakehouse is quiet and I can definitely get some work done. But I couldn't believe my eyes when Joseph appeared in front of me._

 _He pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply before I could say anything. And I was completely lost. It felt so good but this wasn't right. It wasn't right! But why was I doing this?_

 _We kissed for long, long time._

 _April 10 1914_

 _Jonathan asked me to marry him again. And I said yes this time._

 _I don't know what's happening between Joseph and me. He is still so busy. He keeps on saying he has to work hard because I deserve so much better. There are rumours saying he is seeing a widow in Richmond. The widow is rich and can help him with his ranch. I'm so afraid that the rumours are real. Joseph didn't bother to explain himself. He just told me to trust him. But can I trust him?_

 _And the truth was I couldn't trust him. Our family went to Richmond two days ago to visit a relative. I saw Joseph with a woman in the town of Richmond. He looked so happy. The woman was all over him._

 _My heart is dead. Completely dead._

 _April 11 1914_

 _I can't believe Joseph hit Jonathan. Luckily there were people in the Town Hall at that time. Otherwise I wasn't sure what was going to happen. He looked as if he wanted to kill Jonathan. Obviously he had found out my engagement with Jonathan. He asked me why I agree to marry Jonathan. I was so angry at that time and told him it was not his business. He was seeing another woman and how dare he talked to me like that? Jonathan and his friends were going to press charges but I pled Jonathan to let him go. I still cared about Joseph even though he didn't love me._

 _I shall become Mrs Gilbert soon. Joseph is history, past tense._

x x x

There were no more writing, only empty pages, giving Elena the impression that Katherine Pierce had given up on her love for Joseph Salvatore. She felt the same tormented mix of emotions, the same intense of hurt and heart ache.

As she started to close the diary, she was pulled sharply back to the present by Damon's remark, "Interesting reading, isn't it?"

"Yes, I can't believe Joseph built the Lakehouse for Katherine," she responded automatically, suddenly aware of Damon was right all along that Katherine was in love with Joseph Salvatore. She loved him more than Jonathan Gilbert. "You are right."

Damon quirked a brow at her.

"About Katherine," she said. "She was in love with Joseph Salvatore."

He shrugged. "She still married your great grandfather in the end."

"What happened to Joseph and that widow?" she asked curiously.

"Who knows? He had settled down eventually. And I'm pretty sure my great grandmother was not a widow before marrying my great grandfather."

"That's not what I hear, Mr Salvatore. The way my folks tell it, the men in your family are generally more than a little obvious about their fooling around."

"Times change. Things are different now."

"The fact that things are different now doesn't change the past."

"We're talking about Joseph." Damon planted his hands on his hips. "How come I get the idea you are talking about me instead?"

She raised her chin. "So you admit you have been fooling around."

Damon shoved his hand through his hair. "Look, my reputation in this town was always a hell of a lot more exciting than the reality. I know you may not trust me completely but things have changed. I have changed and so do you. You're gonna have to take my word for it."

She folded her arms. "Now why would I do that?"

He came to a halt in front of her. "This may come as a stunning surprise to you, but contrary to popular opinion, I don't have a legion of old flames."

"Damon, you're with a different woman every week-"

"Female friends who go with me to various functions. I don't sleep with them." He sighed as he noticed Elena narrowed her eyes. "Well, I do sleep with some of them."

She cleared her throat. "You don't have to tell me the history of your love life."

There was a moment of silence.

"You know, I kind of hope you would look twice at me back in the old days," he laughed, a humourless, self-deprecating laugh.

For the space of two or three heartbeats she simply stared at him in utter astonishment. Then she pulled herself together with an obvious effort. "You were hardly living in Mystic Falls those days."

"I still spent some summers and vacations in Mystic Falls. But you were squarely in the 'don't touch' category as far as I was concerned."

She looked annoyed. "You mean I wasn't your type."

"Hell, no. It was the other way round. I wasn't your type because I was the bad boy, but that doesn't mean that I didn't look twice."

Her eyes widened. "Why did you look twice?"

"Damned if I know. Pure masochism, probably, because I sure as hell knew that you would never look twice at me."

"That's not true." She was startled by this revelation. "I had a crush on you. Every girl in Mystic Falls did."

He raised an eyebrow, as his interest was piqued. His voice was low when he said, "Oh, yeah? You had a crush on me?"

A fresh tide of hot colour rose in her face. Damn. "It ... I mean ... you—"

"Yes?" he asked softly as his hands settled on her shoulders. "You had liked me back in those days, hadn't you?"

"I was about to say…"

"It can wait," he barely managed to whisper before his mouth descended on hers.

He kissed her, long and hard and deep; so deep that she forgot everything else.

"Do you know what I want to do now?" He pulled his mouth away, panting as he buried his face in her neck.

"What?" She was as breathless as he was.

"I want to throw you back in my bed and never let you leave."

"So do it."

He lifted her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. Electricity went down her spine. The room dissolved into a thousand different hues. She was inside the rainbow.

"Damon."

"Shh. No talking," he said against her nape and swept her up in his strong, muscular arms and cradled her gently against his powerful body.

She felt her feet hit the plush carpet in the bedroom as he lowered her slowly to the ground, their bodies sliding together until she found her footing. His expression was volatile, his eyes dark with hunger and desire as his mouth came down on hers. Raw need ripped through her and she tightened her arms around his neck as he plundered her mouth, burying his fingers in her hair, and pulling her mouth tighter against his. One hand came down and gripped her bottom tightly, pulling her up and against his hard erection, making her moan into his mouth with her desire for him to be inside of her. She was already wet, ripe for his possession.

The magic began again when he carried her to the bed, only different this time, because it was hotter, sweeter, and more turbulent.

And a thousand times more meaningful.

When it was finished, Elena turned onto her side, limp and damp and sated, feeling his legs and thighs pressing against the backs of hers. She drifted toward sleep, his hand still moving lazily over her arm, then coming to rest against her breast in a way that was both possessive and deliberately provocative. She fell asleep smiling.

The sound of his phone ringing woke him. He opened his eyes. The grey light of a rainy morning illuminated the window. Beside him, Elena did not stir. What he wanted most in the world at that moment, he thought, was to stay right where he was with Elena's beautifully curved bottom nestled against his midsection. But the ringing sound of his phone made that a non-option.

With deep regret, he eased himself cautiously away from her warmth. She wriggled a little, as though in protest. He leaned over and kissed her shoulder. She sighed and snuggled deeper into the pillow.

He studied her as he rose and reached for his phone on the side table next to the bed. It was Enzo.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you so early."

"Never mind that now," Damon said impatiently. "What did you find?"

"You are right. Someone is interested in building a holiday resort in Dunham Lake," Enzo said. "Someone we both know very well."

"Elijah."

"Bingo!" Enzo replied. "The State of Virginia is trying hard to promote the tourism in Mystic Falls. Dunham Lake definitely has the potential to become a popular vacation area in the next few years."

The Mikaelson had been actively involved in building residential areas in Richmond in recent years in addition to their family business of department stores. Obviously now they saw the potential of Dunham Lake – the millions they could make from it, so much more than they could ever realise.

"There are about a dozen of houses near the Dunham Lake and the Lakehouse occupies the largest land area. They have approached some of the families already but in order to go ahead with their project, they have to get the Lakehouse."

Elena would never sell the Lakehouse, Damon thought. But it didn't mean the Mikaelson would stop. They might do whatever that was necessary to get hold of the Lakehouse.

"Listen carefully, Enzo," Damon instructed. "I want a report of the value of all the properties in Dunham Lake. Get back to me with the report in the next twenty-four hours. Find out how much money the Mikaelson has offered to the families."

"You want to be part of the game now?" Enzo sounded surprised. "Why? Personal reason? Because of the Gilbert girl?"

"Enzo," Damon warned, "keep out of my personal business."

"Okay, I apologise." He paused before speaking again. "There is something you need to know, Damon."

"What?" Damon asked impatiently. "Don't waste my time, Enzo."

"The owner of the Lakehouse was not Katherine Pierce. It was Joseph Salvatore."


	10. Chapter 10

It was a beautiful day with bright sun and brisk breeze when they drove back to Mystic Falls. Damon didn't talk much during the drive back. His head drawn back, his gaze fixed on the traffic ahead and his grip hard on the steering wheel. Something was bothering him, Elena thought, but she did not say it out loud. They had been seeing each other a lot in the past one week but she was still uncertain about their relationship. They were having an affair, weren't they? Otherwise how would she describe their relationship? They had made love multiple times in the last few days. Correction. They hadn't made love in the last few days. They'd had sex in the past few days. Proper terminology was important, she reminded herself. But she refused to dwell on semantics at the moment.

They drove through the town centre to get some coffee before stopping at Elena's art gallery. Elena noticed a lot of familiar faces in the bakery shop while they waited for their coffee. Vicky spotted Elena and waved a casual greeting. Even from where she was standing, Elena thought she could see the open speculation in her eyes. She was actually grateful that Vicky didn't approach her because she wasn't sure what to say.

A Gilbert and a Salvatore could not even buy coffee together without drawing interested gazes.

"Small town," Damon said. He sounded completely unruffled by the attention.

"Very."

"Not that you and I care, anyway." He winked at her before paying for the cashier. "I will drop you at your art gallery and I will be on my way. Have something to do. See you for dinner."

He said it with such breath-taking casualness, she thought. Taking the concept of dinner together for granted. The unspoken expectation of spending the night was very clear. He was moving right into her daily routine, making himself comfortable.

Well? They were having an affair, weren't they? Why the sudden qualms?

But the answer was there in the next heartbeat. The bottom line here was that getting involved with Damon was a dangerous business.

"Why don't we grab a pizza or burgers and eat in the gallery? Uh, I want to sort out mum's paintings before tomorrow morning. I'm planning to work late tonight."

Dinner at his or her place or out in the public would be more like a date. They were not dating. She had work to do at the art gallery and he brought her dinner so that she could have more time to finish her work. That sounded comfortable.

"Fine."

Something told her that he had guessed what was going through her mind. But he did not argue. Instead, he walked her out to the SUV.

"I'll be there at six-thirty, okay?"

She nodded. "You don't have to rush if you are busy."

"I still have to eat," he said as he opened the passenger's door. "Plus, I like to have dinner with you. But tomorrow night we will have a proper dinner."

"Why? You don't like pizza or burgers? I thought you are easy like that." She smiled before she got into the SUV.

Damon got to the driver's side, opened the door and got behind the wheel. "If you think," he said wryly, "that you can smile at me like that and make me agree to almost anything, you're right." And then he abruptly reverted to his usual, more indomitable self by adding, "However, while I'm willing to be flexible, I'm determined that you're going to spend as much time with me as possible, and that includes some nights together. Just the two of us at my place or your place if your aunt isn't around. Not at the art gallery."

"Why not the art gallery? I love it there." She teased.

Instead of laughing, he took the question seriously and pulled her tightly to him. "You have no idea," he said fiercely, "how much I prefer to have you at my place, especially in my bed." His mouth opened over hers in a rough, consuming kiss that stole her breath and robbed her of all ability to think. When he was finished, she was clinging to him. "I think I should drive away now before everyone in town decided to go home and say we make out in your SUV," he said with a humour.

Elena couldn't stop herself from bursting out in laughter as Damon put the SUV in gear and drove away.

"Good morning," April said as she saw Elena walked into the art gallery. "You look happy."

"Not really, just my usual self," Elena said, trying desperately not to look as if she had spent the day with Damon in the Lakehouse.

"Shall I say you look like someone who is deeply in love?" April ventured, smiling back.

Elena thought of Damon's lovemaking, the things he had said and done to her, and her whole body felt deliriously warm. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not in love," she said, hoping she didn't sound as dreamy as she felt. With an effort she pulled her thoughts from yesterday and made herself think about the work she had to do before she could see Damon again tonight. "We have work to do. I found a few of Katherine's paintings and they are really amazing. I will talk to the museum about showing them during my mum's show. I think they will agree to show some of Katherine's paintings as well."

"Okay, I will talk to the courier company today. Oh, by the way, Elijah called this morning. He wants you to call him back as soon as you get in."

Elena froze. She hadn't expected to hear from Elijah. "Did he say why he called?"

"No. He just asked you to call him back when you get in," April said. "I will make us some coffee."

"Thanks. I will call him later once I have talked to the museum." Elena gathered the documents on her desk and reached for the telephone.

It had been a busy day. By the time Elena managed to finish sorting out the paintings for the museum, it was almost five in the evening. April had helped her to clean the frames for the paintings and they had to label them properly. She was grateful to have April as her assistant; otherwise she wouldn't be able to manage the art gallery alone. She had asked April to leave once they have finished getting the paintings ready to be packed into the crates designed for transporting them safely. She was startled to see that it was nearly six o'clock. Damon had said he would come over around six-thirty for dinner. As usual, she had lost all track of time while she was busy with her work.

She went to the toilet quickly, brushed her hair and piled it on top of her head, securing it with combs. "Get a grip, Elena. This is not a date," Elena said to her image as she made one hasty last inspection prior to walking back to the gallery.

The figure standing in front of one of the paintings made her stop short.

"Elijah."

Elijah turned around, a broad smile on his charming face. "Hello, Elena."

Elena's throat went dry as Elijah came stalking toward her. "It's been a long time," she said, struggling to keep her own nervousness from showing in her voice. "What brings you to Mystic Falls?"

"I'm here for business. Thought I'd stop in and say hello."

"Oh, I have forgotten to call you back. Sorry, it has been a busy day," she said remorsefully.

"Don't apologise." Elijah smiled at her warmly. "It is nothing important."

Elena searched his face, looking at his eyes, checking for any signs of malice. There were none. She worried too much. Elijah was a good man.

"Would you have dinner with me, Elena?" he asked, his expression earnest. "Just catching up like old friends."

There was something in his eyes, something in his voice that made her want to say yes. Maybe it was the emptiness she saw in his expression or a loneliness she sensed. "Yes. Of course, that would be lovely." It was only dinner, so she had no reason to refuse.

"Shall we go to the Grill? You love that place, don't you?"

"Uh, I can't make it tonight." She felt guilty when she saw the disappointment in his eyes. "How long are you planning to stay here? Maybe we could have dinner some other night…Oh Damon."

Damon's face was like stone, his expression grim. "I didn't expect to see you here, Elijah." Damon said gruffly as he approached them.

"Well, it's a surprise to see you here too, Damon." Elijah held out a friendly hand.

Damon clasped it and kept the handshake perfunctory. "What are you doing here, Elijah?"

"Elijah is here on a business trip." Elena smiled at Elijah and gave Damon a warning look.

"What brings you to Mystic Falls, Damon?" Elijah kept his attention on Damon. "Business or pleasure?"

"None of your business." Damon gave him a belligerent look.

"Damon…" Elena glared at Damon before turning to face Elijah. "Why don't I call you tomorrow?"

"Sure. I will talk to you later. And by the way, happy belated birthday, Elena." Elijah leaned close with the clear intent of kissing her lightly on her cheek.

Elena turned her head slightly, just enough to avoid the kiss. "Uh, thanks. We will talk soon."

Elijah smiled and whipped his attention back to Damon. "Have you seen Rebekah lately? I have been so busy lately that I didn't have time to see my dear little sister. We shall get together at some stage. Maybe you can organise something, Damon. Since the two of you are close, so close."

Elena stiffened as Elijah walked away. Damon's eyes bored into Elijah's back, his fist clenched. Then he turned on Elena with a thunderous expression. "You are not going anywhere with him."

Elena glanced at him and took the bag from him. "What's this? Burgers? Smells pretty good."

"Fish and chips from the Grill," he answered briskly. "Did you hear me, Elena?"

"I'm ignoring you until you do something other than give me orders. I don't like it." She opened the bag and grabbed some chips out before taking a bite.

"Elijah is no good for you, Elena. Trust me on this," he growled as he took the bag from her and placed it on a nearby table.

She rolled her eyes. "He just dropped in to say hi."

"What on earth could he possibly be doing in Mystic Falls?" he said angrily. "I would say that was pretty obvious. He followed you here."

"He is here for business," she shot back. "You are being paranoid."

"I'm not paranoid. I'm cautious. I don't trust him."

Elena stared at him. "Elijah will never hurt me."

His expression softened a little. "Elena, look, sometimes things aren't that simple and straightforward. Just stay away from him, okay?"

"You can't just give me orders and expect me to blindly obey, Damon. I make my own decisions. I always have."

Elena turned her back to him. She wanted to trust Damon, but in many ways he was still a complete stranger to her. She wasn't ready to promise herself completely to him. Not yet. Not until she was absolutely certain they really had something together.

"I'm not asking you to blindly obey my orders, sweetheart." His tone was softer now as he put his hands around her shoulders. "I worry about you."

When he finished he did not release her and step back. Instead he stayed there, so close that she could feel the heat of his body. He rested his hands on her, letting her feel the weight and strength of them.

"There is nothing going on between Elijah and me," she muttered.

He tightened his hands on her shoulders. "I don't like Elijah."

"Jealous?"

He turned her slowly around to face him. "I'll never let anyone hurt you." He smiled sombrely as his hand lifted to her cheek, then curved around her nape. "Please trust me on this."

She hesitated, and then her gaze dropped from his compelling eyes to that mobile mouth. She wanted to trust him so badly. She wanted to believe he actually cared. With a smothered moan, Elena moved forward and kissed him, crushing her mouth against his, and Damon's arms swept around, holding her close, his mouth fierce and insistent. She moaned into his mouth as he plundered again, sweeping his tongue into the wet, warm cavity, greedy for her sweetness, wallowing in her essence.

Pulling his mouth from hers, he rasped, "We need to get out of here. Now."

"You are being bossy again," Elena panted softly.

"I told you I'm not bossy," Damon scowled at her and she giggled, covering her mouth to stifle the sound.

"Shall we get out of here? Please?" he pled, burying his face in the silken skin of her neck.

"Got a question for you," she said.

"Forget it."

"Can't. I've got to know. What's going on between Rebekah and you?"

The question blindsided him. He raised his head and looked into her brown doe eyes.

"You're very chatty all of a sudden, aren't you?" he muttered.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Rebekah is past tense. She is now dating Alexander, an architect in Richmond. They have been together for more than a year. You should know that."

Elena eyed Damon with deep suspicion. "Is it true that you didn't go to bed with her in recent years?"

"What I said is true. I know what the gossip columns say and what people think, but it's not true. Yes, we were together in the past but I haven't slept with her for years," he answered.

She just looked at him and said nothing.

"Sooner or later, Elena, you're going to have to take a risk and trust me completely. You can't outwit fate by trying to stand on the side-lines and place little side bets about the outcome of life. Either you wade in and risk everything to play the game, or you don't play at all. And if you don't play, you can't win."

It was, she thought, a beautiful philosophy on the one hand and a terrifying one on the other—a philosophy, moreover, that was far better suited to him than her.

She sighed and buried her face against his chest. "I need time some time." Maybe a lot of time.

After a tense moment he nodded. "Sure. Of course, take all the time you need."

There was a moment of silence before she lifted her head. With a deliberately provocative smile Elena wrapped her arms around his neck and slowly she pulled his head towards her, smiling daringly into his smouldering blue eyes, and then, when he was close enough, she leaned up on her toes, and gave him a kiss that left him breathless.

"Thank you for being understanding," she whispered softly.

"Stay with me tonight," he murmured against her lips. It wasn't a request. It was a statement. His mouth covered hers again before she could reply.

For a few seconds she hesitated and then, with a tiny sigh, she softened.

Maybe she no longer had anything to say, he thought. A man could always hope.

Elijah manoeuvred the rental car out from behind two trucks that were blocking his lane, then he reached for his phone. Finn Mikaelson answered Elijah's call on the second ring. "Damon Salvatore is in Mystic Falls."

"What? But why?" Finn was surprised.

"Who knows?" Elijah said tersely. "What I want to know is if there's any way at all that there could be a leak about us buying up the properties at Dunham Lake?"

"No way. I've taken all the usual precautions to cover our identity until we have purchased all of them. But you know we have a problem, right?"

"Yes, Elena refuses to sell the Lakehouse. I know she would. Give me some time. I may be able to change her mind."

"What are you going to do about Damon Salvatore?" Finn asked.

"I think he wants a piece of the pie," Elijah said. "Find out what's happening at the Salvatore Corporate."

x x x

"You are early this morning," Elena said, kissing Damon on the cheek. "What are you cooking?" She pointed at the golden brown slices on the plate.

"Pancakes." He moved the pancakes from the griddle and paced them in a neat stack on a plain, navy blue plate. "It's my mum's recipe. You will love it."

She gazed at it longingly. "It's beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

He grinned. "Thanks."

So the man could cook. She already knew that. It was not a sufficient reason to fall in love. Lust, maybe, but not love.

She dragged her gaze away from the golden-brown pancakes and saw that Damon was watching her with an odd expression.

"I'm hungry." She took a seat at the table and sipped at the glass of orange juice, hoping he would not question her further.

Damon placed two plates on the table and took a seat across from her. "Try this homemade syrup, you can't get it anywhere." He winked at her as he passed the small pot of syrup to her.

Her mouth was watering as she poured the syrup over the pancakes. "My stomach is growling now."

Damon laughed as he picked up his fork and savoured a bite of the pancake. He studied Elena as she took a bite of the pancake. Memories of last night's lovemaking ignited hot little sparklers of pleasure deep inside him. With her, he could almost forget everything. He couldn't imagine his life without her in it. He wanted Elena, not just in his bed, but in his life and not just for today. He wanted to grow old with her. Never before had he been able to see beyond the moment with other women. But with Elena, he had a vivid picture of them sitting together on their fiftieth wedding anniversary and looking at each other with a love that had matured over the years into a bond that couldn't be broken by anything.

But he knew he couldn't push her too much at the moment. If being patient with her now meant that down the line he would be waking up beside her and then looking across the breakfast table at her each morning for the rest of his life, then patient he would be.

Don't look too far ahead. Just take it one day at a time. That's all you can do for now.

"I need to fly back to Washington DC this afternoon. Something come up at the office."

Elena's head snapped up. "Oh."

Damon's stomach knotted as he thought he saw disappointment in her face. "Have you been to Washington DC?"

She blinked. "What?"

"I'm thinking maybe you could spend a weekend with me in Washington DC end of this month."

Elena's heart seemed to stop in her chest. She barely got it going again when he added a kicker.

"This is the air-ticket to Washington DC." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. "I will pick you up at the airport, if you have nothing planed for that weekend."

Uncertainties shone from the depths of her brown doe eyes. He took her hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly. "I know it isn't going to be easy but I will make time for us, Elena. I hate not being near you, I really do."

There was no mocking inflection in his voice, no teasing, no making light of it; he was completely serious. Moved by that, Elena gazed at this man sitting across her who fitted her as comfortably and warmly as a second skin.

"I know," she said, certain now that getting thought the lonely days ahead would be difficult without Damon around.

"Then come to Washington DC. I will show you my office, my apartment. We can go shopping together, movies, theatres. Wherever you want to go, I will go there with you. As long as you want me."

x x x

Elena saw April arriving at the art gallery as Damon pulled up in front of the gallery. She waved briefly to her, and ignored her halt of surprise as she turned to Damon.

"There's no need to walk me to the door." She didn't want to prolong the goodbye that had to be said.

"I will call you."

"Okay. Have a safe trip."

He smiled slowly, his eyes warm and sensual. "I will see you in Washington DC end of this month." His hand tunnelled under her hair, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her to his mouth. Elena responded to the heated kiss that was packed with feeling and promise. When he released her, she felt warm all the way through.

"Bye," she murmured softly and then reached for the door handle.

Leaving the blue Camaro, she walked towards the entrance of her art gallery then turned to watch Damon drive away.

"Wow." April came to stand behind her. "You are serious, aren't you?"

"What makes you think this is a game? You should know me better, I don't play games." She turned and walked into the art gallery.

"Are you two dating now?" April followed her into the small office.

"Let's put it this way. We are just seeing a lot of each other socially."

April's eyes widened slightly and her eyebrows arched. "Seeing each other socially? Huh. Appears to me that the two of you are doing a heck of a lot more than just looking at each other."

Elena shrugged but couldn't stop a smile from appearing in her face.

"Ha! I know it. I saw the look he gave you when he came to the art gallery. Come on, girl, spill it."

"I'm not telling you anything because there is nothing to say," Elena laughed lightly.

"You are blushing, Elena," April teased. "Come on, tell me everything. How did he win you over? Must be the birthday party. I heard from Caroline he paid for everything that night.

The telephone rang.

"Get back to your work, April." Elena shook her head as she reached for the phone. She cradled the phone against her shoulder and flipped through the papers on the desk. "Hello."

"Elena? It's Elijah."

"Hi Elijah. I was going to call you…" She straightened. "Are you still in Mystic Falls?"

"As a matter of fact, I'm on my way back to Richmond. Something came up at the office."

"I hope it's nothing serious?" Elena asked.

"Nothing serious. Just work as usual," Elijah assured her.

There was a brief pause before he spoke again. "I'm actually calling you on behalf of my mother."

"Esther?"

Elena had met Esther Mikaelson on a number of occasions when she was dating Elijah. Esther was an educated woman, well-versed in arts and literature, trained in the social graces, and extraordinarily pleasing in the eye. Elena had liked her.

"It's my parents fortieth wedding anniversary next Saturday and they are throwing a party at our house in Richmond. My mother wants you to come along."

Elena couldn't believe her ears. Did she hear that correctly? She had broken her engagement with Elijah six months ago. Now she had been invited to attend his parent's wedding anniversary. How absurd it sounded.

"I know this sounds really odd," Elijah said, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly filled the conversation over the phone. "But she really likes you, Elena. She hopes you can attend the wedding anniversary."

"Elijah…"

"I understand, Elena. We are over," Elijah said firmly. "I'm not trying to use my parents wedding anniversary to win you back. But can't we just be friends?"

"You are my friend, Elijah." Elena knew she would always respect and like Elijah. Their relationship as lovers might not have worked out but it didn't mean they couldn't be friends. "Tell Esther I will be there."

"Great. I'm sure my mother would be pleased. I will pick you up around four o'clock next Saturday. The party starts at seven. That would give us plenty of time."

"Sure. I will be ready."

"So will I."


	11. Chapter 11

By the time Elena and Elijah walked into the Mikaelson mansion, heads started to turn and conversations dropped off, then started again with renewed force, and she heard her name being repeated.

"Are you nervous?" Elijah asked.

"No, not really," she said, biting back a queasy smile. She had expected the curious gazes when she had accepted Esther's invitation to come tonight. She ended her engagement with Elijah six months ago and now she turned up to his parents' wedding anniversary. Who wouldn't be curious?

"Let's go to my mother. She will be thrilled to see you here." Elijah clasped her elbow as he led her towards Esther.

As she walked towards Ester, she could see faces of the group around her. Finn, the oldest son of the Mikaelson was standing beside her. Elena was just a few feet away when Ester's husband, Mikael Mikaelson was standing on Ester's other side, looked up and saw her. He said something to Ester and Esther turned toward her with her beautiful smile.

"Elena, I'm so glad you can make it tonight," Esther said. "I haven't seen you for such a long time. I really miss you."

"It's good to see you again, Esther." Elena smiled politely at the beautiful blonde. Esther's over friendliness made her uncomfortable, especially after she had ended the engagement with Elijah.

"Welcome, Elena." Mikael extended his hand. "I hope you will enjoy tonight's party."

Elena shook Mikael's hand as she murmured a greeting.

"Where's Rebekah?" Elijah added quickly as he noticed Elena's unease.

"She was still around just now," Finn scanned around the room to look for his sister. "Maybe she has gone to the washroom."

"Why don't we go to the bar and get you a drink?" Elijah turned his gaze to Elena.

Elena smiled and nodded as he held her arm and led her to the bar.

"Great party, Rebekah," Damon smirked. "Your family certainly knows how to throw a party."

Grinning, Rebekah looped her arm around his waist, pulling him close to her side. "I was hoping you would come."

"Why, to relieve your monotony?" he said, surveying the party that was getting into full swing at seven o'clock at night. 'Where's Alexander? I thought you don't go anywhere without him these days."

"You are still a jerk, aren't you?" she teased. "Alexander is in New York for a conference. He will be back early next week."

When she started to move away, Damon held her back and tightened his grip on her shoulders. "Don't abandon me," he joked. "I don't want to get too much attention from the female guests. Stay by my side for the rest of the night."

Rebekah chuckled. "The Damon I know should be thrilled if he gets all the attention from the women."

"Things change." He smiled as he sipped the champagne in his glass. 'People change, Rebekah."

She blinked. "I must have too much to drink or there must be a problem with my hearing. Damon Salvatore has changed?"

"Don't be so surprised. You have changed in recent years, haven't you?" He said it carelessly, easily, casually. As if it was an incontrovertible fact.

Rebekah's eyes widened as she stared at Damon. "So the rumours are true then?"

"What rumours?"

"You left Salvatore Corporate to go to Mystic Falls because of Elena Gilbert."

"I just took a little vacation, that's all. I didn't leave Salvatore Corporate."

Rebekah stared at him in astonishment. "Good grief, you are serious, aren't you?"

His expression didn't change. "I don't play games."

She could hardly speak. "I have known you my whole life, Damon. You walked out on Salvatore Corporate because you lost your head over Elena Gilbert. Who would believe that?"

Damon frowned. "You make it sound like Salvatore Corporate is my wife and Elena the other woman."

She searched his face. "Have you told her yet?" she asked softly.

Damon arched his eyebrows.

"Have you told her you love her?"

His mouth opened again but this time no words emerged.

"I see. You two haven't had that conversation yet," she said, her voice had suddenly softened. "Why don't you let her know how you feel about her?"

There was a brief pause.

"Unfortunately things aren't that simple," he muttered.

"Are you worried about the family feud?"

"I don't give a damn about the family feud," Damon hissed. "That was almost a century ago."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Rebekah exclaimed. "Go and tell her you love her. Sweep her off her feet."

"What makes you the relationship expert?" Damon asked defensively.

"I'm not an expert but I'm a woman. A woman wants to know how her man feels about her," she informed him heatedly. "I'm trying to help you, dammit."

He sighed. "Sorry, I'm too harsh on you." He has always liked Rebekah. He could never be angry at her.

"It's alright," Rebekah said with a shrug. "Why don't we grab another drink?"

"No. I'm good." Damon really needed some time alone to get his thoughts together. If he was going to confront Elena, he needed time to think.

"You sure?" Rebekah asked dubiously.

"I'm sure. My glass is still full." He lifted his glass to her in a salute.

Rebekah flashed a smile to him. "I will see you later, okay?"

Damon smiled as he watched Rebekah walked away. There were some of the most beautiful women in the world at this party. Taking another sip of his champagne, Damon studied them, but none of them had stirred any interest in him. Except one with particularly dreamy brown doe eyes, a romantic mouth, and long dark brown hair in a black lace overlay dress with a matching black cardigan. Mesmerized, he stood there, watching her incredible smile, and then he froze…It was Elena.

Elena was standing fifteen feet away from him, her hand holding a glass of wine and the man beside her was Elijah. What was she doing here? His jaw clenched and his fists tightened. She lied to him. She said she was going to spend the weekend with Caroline. His insides went up in flames. Seeing Elena with Elijah gnawed painfully at a spot deep in his chest. His heart and mind were flooded with jealousy at the sight of them together. How dare she lie to him? He tossed the champagne down and marched towards her.

"I was trying to figure out what my secretary wrote…" Elijah's voice trailed off as he noticed Damon approached them.

Elena shifted her gaze from Elijah to a man standing in front of them. She caught her breath. It was Damon. His face was contorted with rage.

"Welcome, Damon. I hope you are enjoying the party as much as I do," Elijah extended a hand.

As they gripped hands, Elena felt the tension in the air and she observed the brief flexing of the muscles along Damon's hard jaw as he murmured a greeting.

"Elijah." A blonde man with grey hair tapped Elijah's arm. "Sorry to interrupt. Mikael wants to speak to you before dinner starts."

"Sure." Elijah gave Elena a smile and dropped a little pat on Elena's waist. "I'd better go. I will see you later." Then he shifted his gaze to Damon. "Enjoy the night, Damon."

Elena glanced at Damon. He was practically bristling with rage. Her expression must have been a dead giveaway of her guilt because she had lied to him.

"Damon, listen, I…"

"I have heard enough. Let's get you out of here before I make a scene." He grabbed her upper arm in a vicelike grip.

"Let go of me," she snarled, trying to pull her arm free. "Will you stop with the righteous indignation and listen?"

"Not a chance." His jaw flexed with rage. "You are not staying here."

He practically dragged her out of the mansion. She stumbled to keep pace with his long, angry strides. "Let go of me!" Elena yelled frantically as she wriggled, but he had a tight hold, and she knew he would die before letting her go. "Damon!"

When he reached his car, he leaned down and said, "You lied to me, Elena. Dammit. Why?" He shook her slightly.

"You are hurting my arm. Will you please let me go?"

He released her immediately, and she rubbed her arm, trying to restore circulation. "Esther invited me to the party tonight. I know you will be angry and that's the reason why I didn't tell you."

"You are damn right I'm angry!" he roared. "You are never going to see Elijah again. Never!"

Elena gaped at him. "You are nothing but a big bully." Her brown eyes hardened as she said, "Elijah is my friend and I don't give a damn whether you like him or not. This is my life. You can't control my life."

"You are right, Elena," he said menacingly. "I can't control your life." He took one step closer to her. "But there's one thing I can control."

"W-what?" she asked tremulously, instinctively afraid of the predatory gleam in his azure eyes.

"This," he said, reaching for her and drawing her to him.

"No…" she protested as his mouth claimed hers in a demanding, furious embrace that almost immediately made her capitulate. She breathed in the now familiar, masculine scent of him. His tongue speared through her lips, commanded her compliance.

 _Don't give in. He's being a bully. Don't give in._

Her treacherous body weakened against his chest, her longing suddenly stronger than her will to resist. She speared her hands into his hair, fisted it and pulled his mouth harder against hers. Their mouths fused together, he ravaged her with every thrust of tongue. He pushed; she pushed right back. Elena's yearning grew, and she moaned into his mouth, wanting so much more than she could possibly get. She wanted him so badly.

They broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily. "Let go, Damon," she told him firmly and pushed against his shoulders. "Let go."

She tried to wriggle out of his embrace but his arms held her immobile against his hard, unyielding body. She swore she heard him whispered the word "never" softly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she nearly screamed, furious with herself for still being so uncontrollably attracted to him when he acted like such a jerk. "I hate you! Let me go!"

"I'm an asshole," he answered morosely, his azure eyes glacial and dark. "Hate me if it makes you feel better, but I'm not letting you leave here until I get what I want."

 _Bastard!_

Gleaning every ounce of depleting strength, she pushed him away from him and struck hard at his face. Instantly she was seized, his fingers digging into the fabric of her black cardigan and bruising her arms. Refusing to struggle and give him the satisfaction of overpowering her physically, Elena stood silent and unyielding, meeting the icy glitter of his blue eyes.

"I guess this means you've decided to despise me?" he mocked. "But it doesn't matter."

For a brief moment, Elena thought she spotted an injured, sad look in his otherwise cold eyes…but in an instant, it was gone.

Abruptly Damon pushed her from him. Dragging a deep breath, she threw back her head to look at him, taut-jawed and grim lipped. Could he see the brightness of her eyes? She wondered. Did he know it was caused by hot tears?

"Do you realise how crazy this is, Elena?" He shoved a hand through his hair. He was as tight as she had ever seen him. "No women had ever made me lost control like this! Never! I'm damned if I know how you got under my skin in such a short time, but you have!" A groan of despair came from his throat. "You are right; I can't control you. I'm being controlled by you."

They stare at each other. The atmosphere crackled with emotion and expectation. And then they both moved forward fast, their mouths crashing together, their tongues duelling urgently. Damon moaned, releasing his grip of her body and fisting her hair in his hands as he tackled her mouth with as much force as she was his. This was a possessive kiss. He was reinforcing his claim to her, trying to make her see how strongly he felt about her, how the thought of Elijah and her together could make him crazy mad.

She felt drunk with his kisses and she could hardly breathe but she didn't want to stop kissing him. His hips thrust against hers, pushing her into the side of his car. He left her mouth and buried his lips in her neck. "I want you, Elena." He said in a gruff voice. "I want you so badly."

"Then take me," she murmured seductively in his ear. "Make me yours," Elena added as she began to nibble on the corded muscles in his neck.

Elena walked into the hotel suite and turned on a lamp, but when Damon reached out for her hand, she came wordlessly into his arms, kissing him with a silent desperation that matched his own, holding him to her, crushing her soft mouth to his, her hands rushing over him. Damon clutched her tighter to him, his lips ravaging hers, his hands hungrily memorizing her beloved form.

"Oh God, I've missed you so much!" he whispered against her lips and picked her up, cradling her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He stripped his clothing away and then pressed down into her, connecting their lips once more.

He broke contact with her only long enough to remove her cardigan and dress. He threw them, not caring where they landed. He was finally stretched out against her fully, skin to skin. He knew his body was so on fire that he was most likely burning her. He couldn't stop touching her.

He finally stopped kissing her, only to trail his lips down the smooth column of her throat. He licked along the pulse point, feeling his own skip a beat, as he realized how quickly hers was pounding. When he slid effortlessly in and burying himself deep inside her in one quick motion, she cried out, as he filled her up with his full length.

He paused for a moment, so he could try and control himself. He wouldn't be able to give her pleasure if he didn't get himself under control. She wiggled her hips in need and he couldn't take anymore. He started thrusting hard, in and out of her, while holding her hips tightly in his hands.

Their tongues continued to mimic their lovemaking, tangling and thrusting into one another's mouths, as they both groaned out their intense pleasure. He began thrusting into her harder and faster, as he felt the exquisite pleasure shooting through his body. He felt her own body tensing, as she reached higher, towards her release.

She gasped out loud and her mouth opened wide, releasing him. She threw her head back into the bed and cried out as her body started convulsing around him. She gripped him tightly, deep within her womb and he almost lost consciousness as he felt his release shoot deep inside of her tight body. It felt like lightening shooting through him, as his erection continued to pump within her core.

Sprawled across the bed, a blanket half-heartedly draped across her hips, Elena felt gloriously limp and empty. Still faintly dazzled by the wonder of the experience, she turned her head to look at the man who had shared it with her. He was watching her, the glint in his eyes holding both a trace of satisfaction and amusement. She rolled on to her side and arched close to him, feeling like a purring cat as she trailed her fingertip down his chest.

"Why did you break up with Elijah?" Damon placed his finger under her chin and lifted it until she was looking at him.

"I told you, it didn't work out," she reminded him.

"Did you sleep with him?"

"What?"

"Did you sleep with him?"

His words shocked her and she felt her temper rising. "That's none of your business." She moved to get up, but he used her motion to pull her fully atop him, so that they were belly to belly and her legs were lying between his.

"Tell me. Did you sleep with him?" he said in a thickened voice.

She took a deep breath, glanced up at him, then shook her head.

"Why?" He looked hard at her. "Care to explain?"

She held his gaze for a heartbeat or two as she murmured softly, "You." The declaration was a low rumble of intense feeling wrapped up in a single word.

Damon' eyes widened. She watched him, a half-smile forming and then deepening the creases in his lean cheeks. "Elena," he said against her lips, then claimed them in another long, drugging kiss.

x x x

"SMALL TOWN GIRL SEDUCED BILLIONAIRE BACHELOR"

Elena flipped the newspaper over on the bed, her stomach sinking to her feet as she realized the media had caught up with them. "I hate the media," she commented vehemently, unable to keep the slight tremor from her voice. Both of them made a sensational front page story for the Richmond Sunday daily. There were pictures of Elena in Damon's embrace, another of Elena and Damon kissing passionately, and Elena and Damon going into the hotel. It had also brought up the ancient love triangle between Katherine Pierce, Joseph Salvatore and Jonathan Gilbert.

"You still look good on the paper." Damon came through the bedroom door with two cups of coffee in his hands, handing one to her before picking up the paper, glancing at it and dropping it into the trash can beside the bed before he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"This one is worse. Look at what they wrote!" Elena gritted out as she flung the newspaper on the floor. "They even involved Elijah! They made me look like a whore!"

"You're upset," he concluded.

"Me?" she said sarcastically, pointing to her chest. "Me, upset? Of course I'm. Why on earth won't I be upset? I'm being painted as the small town girl who seduces a billionaire, just like my great grandmother who married my great grandfather for money. By the way, they said I dump Elijah because he isn't rich enough."

Damon bit back a wayward smile at her harassed tone. She saw it. "Don't you dare laugh," she warned indignantly. "This is your entire fault."

"My fault? What did I do?" he asked in a laughter-tinged voice, dragging her into his arms.

She pulled herself away from him. "One month ago I was leading a nice life. A quiet life. The moment you appeared in Mystic Falls, everything just went crazy!"

He took her by the shoulders, still chuckling as he told her adamantly. "Hey, don't let it upset you, sweetheart. I'll give a statement, they'll be hot on our trail for a while, and then they'll find something more interesting to write about. They always do."

She stared at him, her face froze. "What did you say?"

"I said I will give a statement…"

"No!" Elena's voice rose. "What are you going to tell them about us? That we are having an affair? Or we are just enjoying having sex together? This is crazy! You are crazy…"

His mouth closed on hers before she could finish the sentence. He kissed her with a long slow warmth that gradually took possession of both of them. Eventually he dragged his mouth from hers. "We are not having an affair. I want you, Elena. I have wanted you the day I saw you at the Founder's Party. Hell, no. I had wanted you ten year ago when we spent the night together in the hotel."

Elena went perfectly still. "What?" she whispered. "You have been wanting me for the last ten years? Are you serious?"

He looked at her. "Dead serious."

"But why?" Her voice raising again. "Because I'm a Gilbert?"

Damon's jaw tightened. "I don't give a damn whether you are a Gilbert or not. I haven't been able to get you out of my system since we spent the night together ten years ago. I love you, Elena."

To his horror, he saw the glint of moisture in her eyes. Her lips parted, trembled ever so slightly.

"Don't look at me like that," he pleaded, pulling her into his arms. "Please, don't cry. I'm sorry I said it," he whispered, kissing her in helpless desperation because he thought she didn't want to hear how he felt. "It sucks if you don't feel the same way about me but it's okay. I hate to see you cry."

"I don't feel the same way about you?" she repeated fiercely, her shoulders shaking with teary laughter. "I don't feel the same way about you?" she wept brokenly. "You want to know how I feel? I'll tell you how I feel. I love you, Damon Salvatore. I want to be with you."

She snuggled against him. "I love you, Damon."

He raised her chin on the edge of his hand. "After that night in the hotel I knew that I would never be able to forget you."

"I told myself the same thing about you."

He smiled against her lips. "It never occurred to me that you might be virgin."

"Did you think I was a liberated, promiscuous swinger trailing a string of forsaken lovers behind me?"

"No, of course not. I just thought that surely someone as beautiful as you would have been…especially you were going out with Tyler at that time." He grinned. "But I was delighted to learn you weren't."

"I love you, Damon," she whispered before blending her mouth with his.

In Mikaelson mansion, Elijah sat in his bedroom, the Richmond Sunday Daily in his hand. He didn't realise he could still feel jealousy. But it didn't surprise him. With Elena, it had always been different. She excited him the way no other woman had. He wanted Elena – more than he had ever wanted any other woman.

"You okay?"

Elijah looked up to find Rebekah standing at his door. He wondered how long she had been standing there.

"What makes you think I'm not okay?" he mocked as she walked into the room.

"You still care about her. You are still in love with her, aren't you?" Rebekah asked quietly, almost too quietly.

Elijah got to his feet. "She and I broke up, remember?"

"You need to move on, Elijah. Elena is with Damon now."

"Damon is not the man for her," he announced.

"That's not for you to decide."

"Right now her eyes may be filled with him. But it won't last. She will come back to me…in time."

Rebekah frowned. "Don't lie to yourself, Elijah. She ended the engagement. Whether Damon is in her life or not, you know Elena will not choose you."

"Mind your own business, Rebekah." He struggled to keep his voice down and his temper under in check. "Stay out of this."

A knock at the door stopped Rebekah from saying further. Elijah turned and saw Finn at the doorway.

"Sorry to interrupt. Elijah, we need to talk." Finn's glance ran to Rebekah.

"I will leave you two alone." She looked at Elijah. "Think about what I said just now."

Finn spoke after Rebekah left the room. "We have serious problems, Elijah."

"What's Salvatore up to?"

"The ten individually owned properties near Dunham Lake are now reconsidering our offer because Salvatore Corporate has approached them. We are still trying to locate the owner of the eleventh."

"Elena still refuses to sell the Lakehouse." Elijah's jaw tightened.

"There is a problem with the Lakehouse, Elijah." Finn drew in a shaky breath before continuing. "The Gilberts don't own the Lakehouse."

Elijah stiffened. He had a feeling he wouldn't like what he was hearing next.

"The owner of the Lakehouse was Joseph Salvatore."


	12. Chapter 12

Damon's city apartment in Washington DC on the eighteen floor of the sleek steel and glass high-rise was definitely luxurious. A single spacious room combined the living and dining area with an elaborate entertainment centre, and the raised platform at the far corner of the apartment that contained a bar and several sofas comfortably arranged for conversation. The décor was modern in its approach. Done in a study of greys, the colour scheme was designed to draw the eye to the panoramic view of the city and its glitter of nightlights.

"This is incredible," Elena whispered when she arrived at his apartment.

Obviously, Damon had planned to give Elena a surprise when she decided to fly to Washington DC immediately after their declaration of love for each other. Elena knew it was a big step to take. But she couldn't wait to spend more time with him. She wanted to see the place he lived and the office he worked. And the most important of all, she was with him, right at his side.

In the living area, there were candles lit on the coffee table and a bottle of champagne sat on ice with two fluted glasses next to a huge, cushy double lounger. Lavish sprays of tulips cascaded from every vase in the living room – red tulips – the very kind he had sent her.

"Do you know what does red tulip symbolise?" He entwined their fingers together.

Elena shook her head. "Enlighten me, Mr Salvatore."

"Red tulips symbolise the declaration of love." He raised their linked fingers and lightly rubbed his mouth over hers.

She smiled and glanced around the living room. "You have planned this. How did you do that? You flew back to Washington DC together with me."

"Ah, that's my secret." He winked at her before brushing his mouth lightly over hers. "Well, do you like it?"

"It's wonderful."

"I bought this place a year ago. I like it here," Damon said casually, pulling his leather jacket off and throwing it on the sofa.

"I bet it must cost a fortune."

He shrugged as he flopped into the lounger. "Good investment. The price has almost doubled now." He opened his arms to her. "Come here."

Removing her cardigan, Elena slid into the lounger and was immediately encircled by strong arms that held her tightly against an equally muscular chest. "You do move boldly, don't you? I mean your business and investment."

"Is that good or bad?" he asked, his hand sliding up and down her bare arm, leaving goose bumps on her flesh.

"You are good in doing what you do," she answered, fairly certain that underneath the glitz and wealth, he was pretty much the same Damon she knew. That fact was both terrifying and comforting.

"You forget to mention something I'm good at," he said in a hoarse, low voice.

"What?"

He rolled her beneath him in a smooth manoeuvre that left her staring up at him longingly. Her breath hitched as she saw the hunger and need shining in those blue eyes above her. "Do you have any idea how much I want you – now – this very minute?" Damon murmured thickly, his heated breath stirring against her ear and sending delicious shudders cascading down her neck. "I had this entire evening planned – champagne, a candle-light home-cooked dinner, easy conversation…that would ultimately take us to the bedroom. Now, I want to skip everything in between and take you straight to the bedroom – the hell with the rest."

Elena smiled against his cheek. Her whole being craved Damon Salvatore, and only him. His domination aroused her, his scent enveloped her in carnal desire. "I don't mind skipping the wined and dined, and jump straight into the bedroom."

"You're going to marry me, Elena. Promise me you will," he demanded.

"I'll think about it," she agreed, moaning as his mouth covered hers.

"Promise," he commanded, licking her lower lip with his tongue.

"We can talk about everything else later," she told him vehemently as she pulled him down for another kiss.

Moving her trembling fingers down his back, she wrapped her legs around his waist and ground her pelvis against his groin, desperate. His embrace was wild and rampant; his hands holding the back of her head, keeping her still for his possession. Their tongues tangled in a hungry duel, both wild and untamed.

With a tormented, masculine groan, Damon came to his knees. Elena sat up from her reclining position and ripped off his shirt, tearing the buttons off without even taking the time to unfasten them. Damon immediately yanked the tank top off over her head and unfastened her bra.

"Christ, Elena! You are the most beautiful sight I've ever seen. Nothing even comes close," he growled, standing to discard the rest of his clothing. His eyes never left her body as she reclined again. He stared blatantly as he removed his pants, socks and boxers, his eyes emanating liquid desire.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered huskily as he gently removed her jeans and panties.

"I love you, Elena." He reached down and positioned himself at her snug entrance. He eased the tip into her, and she heard him grunt, his body already damp with the strain of holding back.

He propelled himself inside her with a forceful thrust, burying himself in her tight cavern. Elena moaned, stretched to her maximum, full of Damon. At that moment, nothing else existed in the outside world. There was only her hunger for the man taking her, reclaiming her, mastering her body. Everything was raw and carnal, needy and desperate. Damon thrusting and driving deeply into her, grasping her bottom to bring them together again and again. The air was heavy around them, and their damp bodies slid together in an erotic glide as they reached for their peak.

"Promise me you will never leave me. Promise me."

His words sent her spinning over the edge, her climax roaring through her body like a violent storm. Holding on to Damon for dear life, her nails digging into his back, she exploded, crying out as her muscles rippled and her back arched. Throwing her head back, she screamed his name as the whole world flew apart; the only thing of any substance being the man she was clinging to, his muscular bulk preventing her from whirling into space.

Damon followed her into release with an agonized groan, his warmth flooding her womb as his body shuddered over hers. He collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving, his breathing ragged. "Dammit. I'll crush you." He rolled to his back beside her, pulling her against his side, wrapping his arms around her.

They were silent as their heartbeats slowed and their bodies came down from their orgasmic high. Elena rested her head on his chest, her body more sated and content than it had ever been.

"We didn't use a condom," she finally mentioned in a remorseful voice.

"I'm clean. Don't you worry, baby," he said, his voice slightly hoarse.

"I'm clean too. But I'm not on birth control. It's not a likely time of month, but it was still careless."

"You're marrying me, anyway," he rumbled, rolling to trap her body beneath his. "You are marrying me, Elena." It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

She smiled, eyeing her alpha male above her, so damn masculine in his dominance. "I said we'd discuss it later."

"It is later. And you're mine," he stated possessively.

"We'll see," she murmured, pulling him down for a tender kiss that quickly grew passionate. Kissing Damon was like putting a flame to gasoline, the ignition almost immediate and white-hot.

"Are you trying to change the subject?" Damon demanded when he came up for air.

"No. Not really. But I don't think this is the right moment to discuss this subject," she told him seductively, teasingly as ran the sole of her foot along his calf playfully.

"You are damn right." In one fluidly smooth movement, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. "We have the whole night to discuss this subject but right now, there are more important things."

Later, much later, they opened the bottle of champagne, dined by candlelight, and ending up again in Damon's bedroom and rediscovering all the delights of making love.

x x x

"You proposed to her?" Enzo stared at Damon.

"I am marrying her. I already told her that."

"Uh…did you actually ask her?" Enzo inquired uneasily.

"Nope. I told her she was marrying me," Damon answered.

Enzo shook his head in disagreement and rubbed at the tension cording the back of his neck. "Dammit, Damon! Do you know what you are doing?"

"Of course I know what I'm doing. I told her I wanted her to marry me," Damon answered, his voice irritable.

"Does she know about the Lakehouse? Did you tell her the Lakehouse belongs to the Salvatore family legally?"

Damon said nothing.

"Sooner or later, she's going to find out. And if you keep it a secret from her, think how it's going to look."

"When the time comes, I will handle it."

"Maybe." But Enzo continued to wear a troubled look. "I still don't think marriage is the perfect solution."

"I'm not using marriage as the solution," Damon objected, slouching back in the office chair. "I love Elena. I want her. I'm not willing to let her get away this time. She's marrying me."

"Has she said yes?"

Damon shook his head. "She wants to think about it. But she will agree. She's going to marry me," he told his friend stubbornly.

Enzo sighed. "I hope you are right this time, Damon. I like you to be happy. I really do."

Damon brought Elena to the Salvatore Corporate to meet Liv and Enzo the next morning. Liv was excited after receiving the call from Damon. She fussed over the fresh floral arrangement on the credenza behind her desk and critically inspected the room again and again. She could hardly wait to meet Elena. But Enzo felt differently. He took one look at Damon's girlfriend and understood completely how this woman had succeeded in stealing Damon's heart when so many others before her had failed. In one word, she was a knockout. Gorgeous, subtly sexy – especially in that burgundy embroidered top and dark denims. The proud way she held her head, the sharpness in her brown eyes, and that confident squaring of her shoulders. He hoped to hell Damon knew what he was doing. Deep down, he knew Elena wasn't a simple and ordinary woman.

Liv had taken Elena on a tour of the offices while Damon and Enzo dealt with some business matters. Enzo noticed the way Damon's gazed stayed on Elena as Liv trundled her off, as if he was reluctant to let her out of his sight.

"So what's happening with the Mikaelson?" Damon dropped the sheaf of his messages on to his desk as he faced Enzo across the desk top.

"We have managed to catch up with ten owners at Dunham Lake. They seem to be pretty satisfied with our offer."

"I thought there are twelve houses at Dunham Lake."

"One of them is in overseas but we will get in touch when the owner is back."

"Good." Damon stood up and moved to the window. "I don't want Elijah to get his hand on any of the properties at Dunham Lake. Not even one. Do you understand, Enzo?"

"I understand," Enzo began hesitantly, "You need to tell her the truth, Damon. She's bound to find out…"

"No. Not now." Damon cut him off abruptly. "I know Elijah. He isn't going to stop. He will try and keep trying until he succeeds. But I won't let him."

"I don't think the board of directors will be that happy with your decision…"

"They will be," Damon said confidently. "Dunham Lake will be a popular vacation area. I can turn this place into a thirty-six-hole golf course and a hotel/country club with ample room for condominiums and townhouses to be built around it. And," he had difficulty keeping the satisfaction from creeping into his voice – "Elena's Lakehouse can remain untouched because it will be a private residential area."

"You are serious about this," Enzo realised.

"I have never been more serious about anything in my life," Damon stated. "It will bring billions to Salvatore Corporate. The board of directors will not object to this development."

"I trust your judgement, Damon. I always do. If you think this will work, I will lend you my full support."

x x x

"Damon proposed to you?" April squealed in delight over the phone.

Elena frowned. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell April, she thought. "Um…I wouldn't say it was exactly a proposal. It was more like an ultimatum."

April laughed lightly. "Figures. He's a Salvatore male. I think world domination is in their genes."

Elena couldn't stop herself from grinning. She agreed with April. After she and Damon had returned from the Salvatore Corporate in late afternoon, they had separated, Damon explaining that he had some emails to check and a few phone calls to make. Elena had quickly showered and phoned April. She couldn't leave things in limbo with her assistant. And she had told April everything, desperately needing to talk to her about Damon. Elena did think about calling Caroline but Caroline was a journalist. She definitely didn't want to make the front page again.

"He didn't even ask me to marry him. It was like a command," Elena said, her heart sinking.

"Elena, I think it's pretty obvious that you and Damon had something going on. He is a good man. He loves you," April said softly, thoughtfully. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Elena answered her honestly. "He's pushing and I need time. Hell, we don't even know each other that well yet. Everything is happening too fast."

"Give him a chance. Give yourself a chance, Elena," April remarked, her voice pleading. "I want both of you to be happy."

Elena sighed. "I'll try to slow things down so we can get to know each other more. Sometimes he can be such a jerk - dominant and overprotective."

"Are you trying to make me envy? What woman doesn't want to know that she's the centre of her man's world?" April responded dreamily. "I don't think I will mind my man being obsessed about me, especially if his obsession makes me feel safe, protected, wanted. It's actually pretty hot."

"Maybe that's what bothers me. I could get addicted to him so easily."

April laughed. "Then get addicted. Wallow in it."

Elena didn't tell April she had already had a taste of that seductive wanting. "I will be back next week. Call me if there is any problem."

"Don't you worry about the art gallery," April reassured her. "I can handle it. You need to handle your man."

"Got to go now. I will call you later." Elena hung up the phone as Damon strode into the room.

"Everything alright at the art gallery?" He wandered over to the bed and sat down beside her.

Smiling, she nodded her head. "Have you finished with your work?"

"Hmm, hmm." He held her hand in his.

"You don't have to take time off to keep me company. I can look after myself."

"You don't want me anymore?" He pouted like a little boy.

Elena laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Of course not. I know how busy you are."

"Do you know I prefer to spend time with you than to stay in the office?" He pulled her close to him. "You are definitely more exciting than work."

Elena leaned forward and kissed him. His arms gathered her close, his hands moving in a restless and needy exploration over her shoulders and spine. The colour and texture of their embrace quickly changed as Elena responded to the unleashing of emotions and desires held in check on both sides. She strained closer, arching to him, her fingers sliding into his hair, pressing and urging until the kiss became rough with need, lips, tongues and teeth tangling together. But it wasn't enough. Maybe it would never be enough. He dragged his lips from hers and ran them over her face, lipping the high bone of her cheek and nuzzling at her ear.

"You are marrying me," Damon murmured against her throat.

It took a moment to realize she had gone perfectly still.

"What's wrong?" he asked, drawing back an inch or two to study the swollen softness of her lips and the brown of her eyes.

"Can we discuss this later?" There was a strange edge to her voice.

He hated the hesitation he saw. "Why?" he asked dryly.

"Can we drop this?" She looked away. Why was he making this so difficult?

"No. Can't." He released his grip on her and straightened himself. "You are marrying me."

"No!" she retorted but regretted immediately when the word slipped out from her mouth. "Damon, I mean…"

Damon pinned her with a dangerous look. "What's that supposed to mean? No you won't marry me?"

"Stop putting words in my mouth," she shouted.

"Fine! What do you want to do?" he demanded.

"I don't know!"

"I love you and you love me. So why can't you marry me?"

"I didn't say I can't marry you," she hissed. "You have never once asked me to marry you."

Damon jumped up from the bed. "What!? I never ask you?"

"That was not a real proposal." Anger surged through her. She stood up and took a step toward him. "That was like a demand. I don't appreciate it, Damon."

"Okay." He felt his stomach clench. "I'm asking. Now. Do I get an answer?"

Elena took a deep, shaky breath. "How long have we known each other?"

"Why are you avoiding my question?" He was irritated.

"I love you, Damon. But everything is happening too fast. Please, just give me a little more time to think."

His eyes were dark as he worked at restraining his anger, his hurt at her rejection. "I have been waiting."

"But marriage is a big step, Damon." She touched his cheek, as if somehow to instil patience in him. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

"There were no guarantees in life, Elena, only commitments we want to see through." Didn't she understand? "I'm ready to commit to you."

"But I'm not ready."

He studied her closely. "I can't imagine my life without you in it, Elena."

"I know. But I don't want to regret in the future. And most important of all, I don't want you to regret."

"I won't regret." His gaze wandered over her face as if intent on memorising every detail. Then he bent his head, his mouth brushing over her lips before settling on to them with a driving need that had her leaning into him, supported by the encircling crush of his arms.

They were both panting when they finally broke the kiss.

"I won't regret, Elena. I know what I want," Damon murmured huskily as he framed her face in his hands. "But I won't force you into marrying me. I will wait until you are ready." He wanted to stay angry at her for the frustration he felt. But he couldn't. He loved her too much.

"Damon…"

"But just try to hurry, okay? Don't make me wait too long. Men do die of old age, you know." He was hopelessly stuck on her and he knew it. He wasn't going anywhere. He just planned to continue asking until he wore her down.

"I will try," she promised with a laugh.

"Hungry yet?" Damon released his hands. "How does pasta sound for supper?"

"Good," she replied, easing into the same neutral tone, "as long as you do the cooking."

"Exactly what I have in mind," he tossed over his shoulder as he walked to the door. A nice, simple meal, he thought. If only the rest of it was nearly as simple.


	13. Chapter 13

One week in Washington DC had passed in a blur of sightseeing, watching movies, shopping, fine dining, and making love with Damon Salvatore. Elena felt so much part of the place now it seemed incredible that she would have to leave. But here it was: her last day at Washington DC with Damon. Tomorrow she would be leaving early for the airport, and while Damon returned to Salvatore Corporate, she would be boarding a plane back to Mystic Falls.

Damon had not mentioned about marriage since that evening but Elena was certain that he hadn't let the subject drop yet. She didn't want to think too much about it at this stage. She wanted to enjoy the time she spent with him and trying to get to know this man lying next to her. The cuddles and hugs she had received from him meant something, and she knew it.

Damon's naked body was shape around her back, one leg and one arm curled over her. His head nestled into her shoulder, and his deep, rhythmic breathing told her that she had woken before him. Looking at him, Elena felt again a powerful surge of nameless tender feelings all wrapped up with the need to touch and love. Being with Damon was like stepping outside after a summer rain into a world that was suddenly clean and invigorating, livening all the senses. Yes, when she was with him, she felt good, very good, very alive.

"Damon?"

"Hmm?" He muttered grumpily and tightened his arm on her.

"I have to get up."

"No. Just stay."

"Come on. I'm hungry." She pushed him gently on his shoulder. "I will cook breakfast."

Groaning, he rolled off her. Around a huge yawn, he asked, "Why don't we go out to have breakfast?"

"I want to cook breakfast for you this morning." She threw her legs over the side of the bed. "I'm going back to Mystic Falls tomorrow."

Damon stretched lazily and watched Elena picked up his T-shirt on the floor. "Maybe I don't want you to go."

"I have to," she said ruefully and put on the T-shirt.

He sighed. "Yeah. I know."

"Mind if I use the bathroom first? I will be quick. Then I will make us some breakfast."

"Sure," Damon whispered to himself. "Maybe I convince you to stay here."

Standing beneath the steaming spray, she let the hot water pound against her skull before shampooing. She lathered lavishly with the imported soap. She shaved her legs and used the hair dryer only long enough to blow out most of the water, then bent over the sink to brush her teeth.

All of which felt wonderful. She smiled to her image on the mirror.

Back in the bedroom, Damon was already up, sitting on the edge of the bed. He smiled warmly at her as she took out a tank top and a pair of shorts from the suitcase lying atop a richly carved luggage rack.

"What do you want for breakfast? Bacon and eggs? Omelette?" she asked as she put on the tank top and shorts.

"I don't mind. I will have what you are having." He wandered over to stand behind her and kissed her nape. "I'm easy like that."

"Take your shower and brush your teeth. Breakfast will be ready when you finish."

"Yes, madam." He gave her a salute, causing Elena to burst out laughing. Then he walked into the bathroom.

She grabbed some of the clothes lying on the floor and put them back into the suitcase. She had to pack after breakfast, she reminded herself. She had wanted to pack last night but Damon had distracted her by kissing her. They ended up making love on the floor next to the luggage rack.

She walked barefoot to the kitchen, standing in front of the fridge scanning the shelves. Maybe some eggs, he could use the protein. Breakfast for her was usually toast and black coffee. But having breakfast with Damon was different. She wouldn't be eating alone. It was amazing how appetising that sounded.

As she started to beat the eggs the phone rang. The shower was still running. She hesitated, before putting the bowl on the countertop and reached for the phone. Maybe it was Enzo or Liv calling. Damon probably wouldn't mind her answering the phone.

"Hello?" she said into the mouthpiece.

"Uh, is Mr Salvatore around?" It was a man who sounded in a hurry.

"He is in the shower. Can I take a message?" She reached for a pen and paper.

"It's Trevor calling. Tell him we have managed to get hold of the last land owner of Dunham Lake. We are arranging a meeting at nine for the eleven land owners tomorrow to discuss about our offer."

"Dunham Lake?" Everything inside her went still. The pen dropped to the floor with a loud thud.

"Yes, Dunham Lake. Please pass the message. It's urgent."

"Sure," Elena answered shakily as she punched the end button.

Rage seethed inside her. It all made sense now. Caroline was right. Damon came back to Mystic Falls with a purpose. It wasn't revenge he was after. He was after the land in Dunham Lake. Sloan Harrison worked for him. How dare him? How dare he lie to her? The dawning pain of betrayal slashed through her like a thousand jagged knives.

"Honey, what are we having for breakfast…" Damon's voice trailed off as he noticed her expression. Bewildered by her reaction, he moved toward her.

"Is something wrong, Elena?" He noticed her fists clenching tightly at her sides.

He wasn't certain she had heard him. Then her gaze shot to his face, all icy cold. "Elena, what is it?"

"Trevor called just now to remind you of the meeting with the land owners of Dunham Lake." Her voice was cold.

Damn. Damon cursed silently. She had found out. "Listen to me, darling…"

"You are after the land in Dunham lake, aren't you!?" she said, her voice ragged with anguish.

"Yes," he said, watching her, as if almost uncertain of how or why she was reacting like this.

"Oh, my God!" she said, backing away a step. "That's the reason you came back to Mystic Falls. What are you planning to do? Destroy all the houses near the lake and build your luxury resorts?

"You need to calm down, Elena," he said, but there was urgency in his voice as he started toward her. "That's my plan but…"

"You sent Sloan Harrison but I refuse to sell the Lakehouse. So you decide to seduce me instead!" she cried, wrapping her arms around her stomach and jerking back out of his reach.

"That's not true!"

"You're lying!" she said as everything fell into place, and her blinding obsession with him gave way to agonizing reality. "You have planned on this the moment you realise I refuse the sell the Lakehouse. Do you think you can convince me to sell the Lakehouse by having sex with me?"

"Dammit, Elena." His hand snaked out to seize her arm but she jerked away from his touch. "This is not what you think."

Shuddering with fury and anguish, Elena said icily, "Or have you decided the most expedient and expeditious course of action to gain control of the Lakehouse was to marry me?"

His narrowed gaze was quick in its study of her, taking in the icy brown glitter of her eyes. "Elena, I know how it must look – how it must sound," he began carefully. "But that's not the way it is."

"Isn't it?" Her voice trembled with anger. "What a pushover I must have seemed to you, lapping up all your lies and coming back for more, honestly believing that you loved me and that I could trust you – turn on the charm and sweep me off my feet. That was your game plan, wasn't it?"

"You are wrong, Elena."

"Are you going to wait for a couple of months and then say, "Darling, I have this great idea to take Dunham Lake and turn it into a fabulous resort complex – think of the millions you will make from it, so much more than you would ever realise." Maybe you would add the incentive: "We will do it together, darling – work side by side as partners." Naturally I would be so blindly in love with you that I would agree. That's the way you thought it would work, isn't it?"

"Why should I answer that when you wouldn't believe me anyway?" he challenged quietly.

"Yes, you are right, I wouldn't!"

"I'm trying to help you and the other owners…" he said with desperate sincerity.

"Help us!? You are trying to help yourself," she flung back. "You are going to earn millions from this project, aren't you?"

"I know I hurt you, Elena. Please, trust me on this. Please." His voice gentled. "Will you listen to me, darling?"

"You lie to me and you expect me to be okay with it?" she said, glaring her disdain.

"I wasn't sure how you would react."

"From the day you came back to Mystic Falls, you have been ruthlessly using my trust and my feelings for you to manipulate things until they happen the way you want them to. You are a big liar…" Her voice was trembling and tears were burning the backs of her eyes

"No, I haven't!" Damon retorted.

"I will never believe you again, not when you had already hidden so much from me, and so skilfully. You used me. You used me as a quick and easy means for you to get the Lakehouse."

"I didn't!"

"Yes, you did. And I was such a fool to believe in you!"

"Don't do this to us," he warned, his voice hoarse with angry desperation as he realized he was losing her. "You haven't figured out the whole picture yet. You know I will never hurt you."

"But you have!" she cried on the verge of hysteria. "I should have never trusted a Salvatore."

His face tightened. "Dammit! Why can't you just trust me for once? I love you, Elena."

She looked at him, feeling as if her heart were being torn to pieces. When he spoke again, his deep voice was aching with emotion.

"All you have to do is trust me." He held out his hand for hers. "Trust me, darling," he said tenderly.

With uncertainty clawing at her, Elena looked at his outstretched hand, but she couldn't move.

"Either give me your hand," he said, "or end it now, and put us both out of our misery."

Elena wiled herself to put her hand in his and trust him, but she couldn't do it. "I can't," she whispered brokenly. "You lie to me." His hand fell to his side, his face wiped clean of all expression. Unable to endure the way he was looking at her, she turned to leave. She rushed into the bedroom and hastily packed her suitcase.

When she came out of the room, Damon was still standing at the kitchen, unmoved, a muscle leaping in his clenched jaw. Fighting to stop herself from bursting into tears, she walked to the front door.

"Don't do this, Elena."

At the doorway, she paused but she didn't look back at him. "It's over, Damon. We are over." Then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

x x x

The rain came down in sheets, drenching Elena as she dashed from the cab to the front porch of her house at Mystic Falls. Damon had called her multiple times since she walked out of his apartment but she didn't want to talk to him. When she had left him standing there early this morning, she had completely understood their relationship had ended. Permanently.

She thought of the beautiful things he had said to her, beautiful things spoken with tender solemnity. _I want to throw you back in my bed and never let you leave. We are not having an affair. I want you, Elena. I have wanted you the day I saw you at the Founder's Party. Hell, no. I had wanted you ten year ago when we spent the night together in the hotel_. The poignancy of his words made her chest ache. They were all lies. He had used her, and by using her, he had betrayed her. She couldn't trust him anymore.

She paused long enough to shake off the excess water, then reached for the door. The house was dark and cold. Just like what she was feeling now. In a futile effort to stop herself from wallowing in her misery, she decided to have a shower. A shower would make her feel better.

Twenty minutes later, Elena stood beside her bed. She felt drier but still lousy. Sleep deprivation. That was it. Once she had slept for several hours, she would be right as rain. Her old self. Recharged and ready. She had learned the painful way, it was better to love wisely, safely, than to be swept away by emotion.

When she heard the doorbell, she thought she must have heard it wrongly because she was exhausted. But when it was followed by a second, she got downstairs, moved to the front door and pulled it open.

"Elijah."

"Can I come in?" Elijah smiled warmly at her.

Recovering quickly from her initial surprise at seeing him, Elena stepped back to allow him to come in. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you." He stopped right in front of her. "I have heard about Damon and you."

"There is nothing between Damon and me. Not anymore." Her tone was firm but why did her heart ached so much?

"Because of the Lakehouse?"

Her head snapped up. "Did you know about this?"

Elijah nodded.

"And you don't bother to tell me about it?" Her temper flared. "I thought you are my friend."

He faced her, now wary himself. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure what to say…"

"When did you find out about his plan? You should have at least warned me about it!" she cried in anger.

"Would you listen?" He took a step toward her. "Would you listen to me when you were completely in love with him?" Elijah studied her with critical eyes, catching her stunned glance that quickly flared into bewildered anger.

"Are you trying to say I was so dump to believe in him?" she demanded.

"What I am trying to say is Damon can be very charming and manipulative." He gazed at her in a thoughtful study. "The chase and the conquest would be very appealing to him."

"Stop it, Elijah," she warned. "I don't want to listen anymore!"

He looked at the sparkle of temper in her eyes. He knew he had to push her more. Just a little bit more. "Damon is not the right man for you, Elena," he announced. "He uses you to get what he wants. He is playing games with you."

She stiffened. "I think I have enough of this conversation. Please go, Elijah."

"You deserve much better, Elena. I'm sorry if I upset you. But you need to know this is the real Damon Salvatore – arrogant, ruthless and deceptive. He doesn't deserve your love."

Elena closed her eyes, a tightness gripping her throat. "I know it's not your fault. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be angry at you," she said remorsefully.

"What are you going to do, Elena? Are you going to let him get hold of the Lakehouse?"

She clenched her jaw. "No. I swear I will never allow him to possess so much as one inch of that land."

"If you need my help, please let me know. I will do anything for you. Anything."

"Elijah…"

Reaching out, he gently took hold of her arms. Elena stiffened instinctively.

"I care about you, Elena. You should know that." His voice was soft and subtly soothing. "I have always cared about you."

"Don't," she protested but it sounded weak.

"Don't torture yourself. Let him go. You have your life—a life that should be filled with a husband and children. What you need," he said, his voice softening as his hands slid down her arms, "is a man who'll take you to bed and make you forget that you ever went to bed with him. I know you did, Elena," he said when her eyes snapped to his. "And it doesn't matter."

Before Elena could respond he smashed his lips against her passively and attacked her mouth. He kept their mouths fused as he backed her up until her back hit the wall. She stood pressed up against the hard surface. There was no escape. She reached her hand up to push him away but instead she ended up gripping his shirt. He pushed his tongue against her lips, demanding entrance, accessed her mouth and then tangled his tongue with hers.

He groaned, as she tangled her tongue with his. He couldn't get close enough. He couldn't think beyond anything but his need. He was hungry and only she could satisfy him. He broke the kiss long enough to trail his lips down her neck.

"Stop, Elijah! Stop!" Frantically, she pushed against his shoulders, desperate to get free.

Elijah stepped back. "I'm sorry, Elena. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't…"

Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs, her heart raced frantically, and her body shook with fright. Her mind cleared slowly, and she looked up at the man in front of her. What was she doing? How could she allow Elijah to kiss her?

"Please forgive me, Elena." Grimness and guilt moved over his features.

"It's my fault. I shouldn't kiss you back." She rubbed a hand across her forehead. "I wasn't thinking!"

"Hey." He took her head between his hands to force her to look at him. "It's okay."

"Elijah, you are my friend. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want anything to change between us. Do you understand?"

Elijah looked at her. He knew that whatever reasons Elena had come up to reject him, it had something to do with Damon. Rage flashed through him, jealous rage. He had never hated anyone as much as he hated that man. But he knew how to make Elena forget him. It merely required patience, the right timing and the proper scene. If he had to wait…he would wait.

 _She's mine. She's always been mine._

Eventually, he would snare Elena Gilbert, keep her, and made her his.

The doorbell jerked him away from his thoughts. Elena moved to the door and opened it.

"I'm glad you are back. Do you know how many times I have called you?" It was Caroline.

"Battery was flat." Elena lied.

"Have you heard about Salvatore Corporate's interest in Dunham Lake? They have approached majority of the land owners…." Her voice trailed off as Caroline noticed Elijah. "Oh, Elijah. What a surprise to see you here." She glanced curiously at Elena.

"I'm here on a business trip. Just drop by to see Elena," Elijah countered smoothly. "I have heard Salvatore Corporate intend to spend a huge amount of money on the Dunham Lake project. Well, can't say I'm surprised. The State of Virginia has tried very hard to promote tourism in Mystic Falls. Dunham Lake will become a popular vacation area in near future."

"I'm not going to allow Damon to possess my land. He will not touch my Lakehouse," Elena said between clinched teeth.

"We have a problem, Elena," Caroline said nervously. "The Gilberts don't own the Lakehouse."

Elena's eyes widened. "What!? What are you talking about? The Lakehouse has been a family holiday house for almost a century. My great grandmother Katherine owned the place."

"Elena, listen to me," Caroline reached out and touched her shoulders. "Katherine didn't own the place. The Lakehouse belonged to Joseph Salvatore."

Shock splintered through her. "No!" Elena cried out. "The Lakehouse belongs to the Gilbert family."

"No, Elena. Joseph Salvatore built the cottage on his own land." Caroline went on. "The Salvatore had a piece of land in Dunham Lake almost a century ago. In other words, the Lakehouse is a property of the Salvatore family."

She breathed in sharply at Caroline's answer, the memory instantly flashing into her mind of Katherine's diary. _He had built the cottage for me. It is the best gift I have ever had in my entire life._

"Are you alright, Elena?" Elijah asked.

"The Lakehouse was a gift," she muttered.

Both Elijah and Caroline froze. Elena took a breath. "Joseph Salvatore gave it to Katherine as a gift."


	14. Chapter 14

Runnels of perspiration streamed down his face and neck, plastering the cotton T-shirt against his chest. Drawing the racket back, Damon channelled all of his strength into his swing at the fast-flying ball and rocketed it back at the wall. Immediately he moved back, shifting to a ready stance, totally intent on the ball yet aware of his opponent, Enzo. The man made a diving swing at the careening ball – and missed. Game point.

Damon straightened, lowering his racket, muscle relaxing, the wind drawing in and out of him deep and even. He looked at his opponent lying sprawled on the squash-court floor. Slowly, tiredly, Enzo pushed to his feet and glanced at Damon, shaking his head.

"That's it. I have had it," he said, admitting defeat. "Man, you are out for blood."

The image of Elena came to his mind, proud and strong, the flare of icy defiance in her brown eyes. He dropped his glance and turned away to get his towel. "I play to win. You should know it."

"I know," came the answering echo of full agreement.

Damon scooped up his towel from the corner and rubbed it over his face and neck, letting its thickness sop up the sweat.

"Have you spoken to Elena?"

"No." His voice was hard and flat.

"Why not?" Enzo frowned. "You can't just let her walk away like that. You've got to talk to her – make her understand."

"She refuses to talk to me."

"And you are going to give up because of that?"

"No. I'm not giving up," Damon replied impatiently.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Enzo exclaimed. "You need to see talk to her. Right now."

"No. Not now. She is in no mood to listen." Damon had never seen Elena like that – so angry, so hurt, all closed to him and ready to throw his words back to his face.

"I hope you are right," Enzo said, none too certainly.

"Damon, you can't wait." Liv strode into the court. "You need to talk to her straightaway."

Damon's forehead creased in a trouble frown. "Why? What's up, Liv? Why are you here?"

"Trevor came to your office this morning with this." Liv passed a legal-looking document to Damon.

"What's that?" Enzo asked as Damon scanned at the document in his hands. "Don't tell me we are being sued. By whom?"

Damon flashed him a quick look, a killing coldness in his eyes, the muscles standing out sharply along his jaw. "We are not being sued," he said curtly. "Elena has put a claim that Lakehouse belongs to the Gilbert family. Legally."

"She can't do that, can she?" Liv asked cautiously.

"I have heard," Enzo paused. "Elena is seeing Elijah. Do you think Elijah is up to something?"

Damon stiffened. "Damn." He swore in frustration, throwing back his head to glare at the ceiling and bringing his hands to rest on his hips, the racket against his side.

"What can Elijah do? The Salvatore owns the Lakehouse." Liv said, her glance seeking Damon's eye.

"Elijah will do anything to help her to get the Lakehouse. His interest is not only the Lakehouse." Enzo met the glance Damon shot him. "Don't forget the two of them dated for three years before Elena ended the engagement."

"Elena doesn't love Elijah," Damon said abruptly. "She will not fall for him."

"But she can't claim the Gilbert family owns the Lakehouse legally, can she? Even Elijah can't help her." Liv said.

"The Lakehouse was a gift to Katherine," Damon muttered aloud. "By Joseph Salvatore."

"What!?" Both Enzo and Liv were stunned.

"My great grandfather built the cottage for Katherine. It was mentioned in Katherine's diary."

"Damn," Enzo swore softly.

"What are we going to do?" Liv said, her glance seeking Damon's eyes. "Do you think she will use this against us?"

"I'm afraid so," Enzo said.

"No, I will not allow this to happen." He pulled the towel from his neck. "Liv, book me a ticket to Mystic Falls. I'm flying there this evening."

"What are you going to do?" Enzo asked.

"I'm not going to lose Elena – or the Lakehouse."

x x x

Since she returned to Mystic Falls, Elena coped in the only way she knew how. She immersed herself in the art gallery and painting. She hadn't painted for since she was in high school. But she needed to find something to do to distract herself, and painting seemed to be an option where she could keep herself going until she dropped into bed at night, exhausted.

A week had passed in a blur of frantic activity, but slowly, very slowly, Elena began to find her balance again. There were days when she actually went for four or five hours without thinking of Damon, nights when she didn't lie awake staring dry-eyed at the ceiling, remembering things like his gorgeous smirks, his intense azure eyes which seemed able to read her clearly or the husky sound of his whispered endearments when he made love to her.

Elijah spent that whole week in Mystic Falls, visiting her art gallery almost daily and helping her with the documents of claiming the ownership of the Lakehouse. The entire town gossiped that Elijah had come back to try to win her back. But Elena refused to consider that possibility. She wasn't ready for someone else. Not at the moment. And definitely not Elijah. She liked Elijah and had always respected him. She only wanted him as a friend.

Tonight as usual she was drawing on an open sketchbook propped on her knees in her living room. It was quiet and peaceful. She liked her life like this. The pounding on the front door startled her. She looked at her watch and it was nearly ten o'clock. Who would it be at this hour of the day? She wondered.

She went still at the sight of Damon standing on her front porch.

"Hello, Elena." His gaze locking at hers. She wore a plain sleeveless blue tank top and a pair of snug black leggings that emphasized the neat curve of her calves and trim ankles. Her hair was coiled into a knot at the back of her head. No jewellery of any kind adorned her, and only a minimum make-up. Yet she had never looked more strongly beautiful to him at that moment. He felt the now-familiar tightness in his lower body.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was shaky. Damn. She cursed herself for being vulnerable at the sight of him. She had to stay strong. She put up her chin. "What do you want, Damon?"

"I came to see you." He flashed his killer smile. "You are still my girlfriend."

"I'm not your girlfriend. It's over. We are over," she snapped back at him, not even caring she was being rude.

Even though he had expected something of the kind, he still felt anger at actually hearing the words. "Why are you so afraid to see me, Elena?"

"I'm not!" Her temper flared ever so briefly before she battered it down. "Please leave or I will throw you out," she said coldly and began shutting the door in his face. He was so shocked at being dismissed so completely he almost allowed her to slam the door. At the last second he put his foot in the door, stopping her progress. He looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

"I need to talk to you," he almost growled.

"I don't want to talk to you!" she yelled back.

"I'm coming in Elena. We're going to talk," he said firmly.

"Fine," she said bitterly and turned away from the door.

Elena walked over to the fireplace because it was as far as she could possibly get from him. "You said you wanted to talk. So talk now," she reminded him ungraciously. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned her shoulders against the mantel, waiting for him to start trying to bully and coerce her, which she was positive he meant to do.

"I have made a mistake," he said, and if Elena hadn't known better, she'd have believed there was tenderness in his expression. "I know I have made a mistake, Elena." He took a step closer.

"A big one. You used me. You used me as a quick and easy means for you to get the Lakehouse. I will never forgive you that or forget it."

"You are wrong. I never intend to use you to get the Lakehouse."

"Then why do you keep it as a secret? Why didn't you tell me you are after the land in Dunham Lake?"

"I admit that was wrong. Maybe I didn't think you would understand. But it wasn't a lie when I told you I loved you."

She laughed – a harsh breathless sound. "I can't believe this. After what you have done, do you really think you can come here and tell me how much you love me, and I will just fall into your arms? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

There was an ominous tightening of his mouth, a muscle leaping along his jaw. "I expect you to listen to reason."

"Whose reason? Yours? You make me sick, you lying bastard!" She turned from him, hating him as violently as she had once loved him.

"Dammit, Elena." Damon swore, angrily shoving a hand through his hair. "I didn't expect this. Not this." He walked away from her, then he turned on his heel, his voice ringing with harsh irony. "Will it help convince you what I'm doing now is because of you? I don't give a damn about the millions I can earn from the Dunham Lake project. I'm doing the Dunham Lake project because of you."

"Don't lie to me, Damon! Don't pretend you are doing everything for me," Elena flung back.

"I'm not lying!" He closed the distance between the two of them. "I know Dunham Lake means a lot to you and you don't want it to change. Look, tourism in Mystic Falls is growing. Eventually Dunham Lake will be a popular vacation area. Trust me, if Salvatore Corporate doesn't get a piece of this pie, some other developers will."

Elena drew a shaky breath. "I don't believe you," she said, unable to believe everything he'd said, and yet half convinced that somehow what he was telling her was true.

Lifting his hand, Damon laid it against her smooth cheek. "I'm not lying. Trust me, Elena." "God, I miss you," he whispered. "I miss you so much." He bent his head, intending to kiss her, but she turned her face away, so he kissed her ear.

"I know you miss me too," he cajoled softly, his mouth sliding over her cheek toward her lips again. "Kiss me back. I know you want to."

Elena opened her mouth to say something duly flippant or, better yet, sarcastic, and the instant she did, his mouth captured hers. His hand clamped the back of her head, holding her mouth to his while his other arm angled down across her back, holding her hips tightly to his. And Elena was lost. Locked to him from toe to head, possessed by his hands and mouth and tongue, she went down to ignominious defeat. Against his chest, her fists flattened, her hands sliding up his shirt inside his jacket, her fingers splaying wide of their own accord, spreading against the muscled warmth of his chest. His tongue stroked intimately against hers, his mouth inexorably forcing hers to open wider, and suddenly Elena was welcoming the invasion of his tongue, helplessly kissing him back with all the desperation and confusion rioting inside her. As soon as she did, his arm tightened, his mouth starting to move with fierce, devouring hunger over hers, and Elena felt his own desire beginning to pour through her veins.

"Bedroom," he told her, before once again kissing her senseless and started heading in that direction, with her wrapped around his waist.

He reached her bedroom and could smell her scent drifting out to him. He strode through the doorway and lay her down on the bed. "Don't tell me that you don't want this, Elena." His voice was tense and harsh before his mouth came down on hers again. He groaned against her lips, his hands pushing under her tank to touch her bare skin.

Elena wrapped her arms around his neck, revelling in the feel of the coarse hair between her fingers as she speared her hands into his hair. Intoxicated by the masterful strokes of Damon's tongue, she shivered and opened wider to him, giving him the access he was ruthlessly demanding. He reached up and removed the knot from her hair, the action both sensual and dominant as he held her in place for his rough possession.

She whimpered into his mouth as he caressed the skin of her abdomen, and then yanked her bra up. He ripped his mouth from hers, his breath coming in heavy pants. Elena was just as breathless and she let her head fall back, giving him access to the sensitive skin at her neck as he explored it with his tongue, his whiskered jaw abrasive against her cheek. She closed her eyes, every nerve in her body pulsating, electrified. "Damon," she hissed, begging Damon to end her torment.

"Tell me you want me," Damon commanded, his warm breath caressing her ear.

"Please," she repeated, unable to say anything else.

He broke contact long enough to remove their clothes before he laid her down again and slowly pushed inside her. Her body was quivering with need, as he moved his impressive length in and out of her body, while continuing to kiss her lips, neck and ears. She wanted more, she needed more. She was on the edge of a cliff and only he could push her over.

She grabbed his hips and thrust up against him, groaning as the full width of him settled against her. "Damon…" she gasped. His eyes dilated at her gasped words and he gave them both the pleasure they needed and picked up his speed until they were crying out in ecstasy. He flipped them over when they were done and held her close in his arms not willing to let her go.

She seemed to know she had lost the battle and curled up in his arms. He was so depleted; he couldn't even open his eyes. He pulled the covers up over them and fell asleep feeling better than he ever had in his life. He'd deal with the real world soon enough, was his last thought as he drifted into a deep sleep.

x x x

Waking up to find herself in bed with Damon was embarrassing enough without having to look him in the eye. At least not until she had time to collect herself. Thank God he was still asleep. Elena carefully moved away from him and slid noiseless from the bed. Spying her underpants, she crept to the foot of the bed and retrieved them, then tiptoed around the room, gathering strewn articles of her clothing, hugging each garment against her chest in a gesture of modesty, which under the circumstances was rather ridiculous. She cursed herself silently. She was supposed to be angry with him. Their relationship had ended. How could she allow herself to fall for his charm again?

She went to the bathroom at the far end of the hallway and managed to close the door without making a sound. It didn't surprise her that the face staring back at her from the square mirror tacked above the sink looked like a walking disaster, which was exactly how she felt. Feeling less than happy with herself, Elena stepped into the shower. Twenty minutes later, she rubbed a clear spot in the steamed-up bathroom mirror. Wet hair straggled down her neck. Grimacing, she dragged a comb through the wet tangles. She didn't even bother to dry her hair.

She squeezed toothpaste onto her toothbrush and attacked her teeth. When she faced Damon, she would feel more confident and less embarrassed over what happened last night if she was clean. Damn. Damon hadn't used protection last night. She lost herself in him last night. Lost sense of everything but him. That was not smart at all. Things were complicated between the two of them at the moment. The thoughts of pregnant with Damon's baby didn't make her feel any better.

Once out of the shower, she moved to the kitchen. She needed to figure this out, create some distance between her and Damon. She had to stop seeing him. _How in the hell did I allow myself to sleep with him? He lied to you. He used you. You can't trust him again._

For half an hour Damon lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, listening to the shower running. Then he heard her walking down the stairs. Cursing in whispers, he threw back the blanket, swung his feet to the floor, and stood up. He put on his pants and reached for his shirt, then changed his mind and left it lying on the floor. In bare feet he walked downstairs and to the kitchen.

"There you are." As his voice came to her from behind, Elena stiffened, suddenly sensing that he was very near. Immediately she turned and she took a quick breath. He placed a hand on each side of the cupboard, and effectively trapped her with his strong, muscular arms. "I don't like waking up by myself." There was a lazily possessive look in his eyes.

"That's your problem. I don't really care." She tried to sound casual.

"Hell. You are mad about last night, aren't you?"

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"And they say men are the ones who don't do a good job of communicating."

"Last night…" She licked her lips nervously. "It won't happen again. Not until we sort this mess out. Maybe not ever again. I don't trust you."

His jaw tightened. "The feelings you had for me are all still there – I could feel them. You may prefer to deny it but you want me every bit as much as I want you."

When he caught her face between his hands, her first impulse was to resist forcibly. "I know you still care," he said into her mouth and kissed her before she could catch her breath.

He pushed her back until the edge of the counter pressed against her spine. He moved one leg between hers. His mouth shifted, deepening the kiss. She gasped, as the fire started building in her stomach again.

She couldn't figure out how he turned all her rational thoughts to jelly with barely a touch. She was already losing her battle to distance herself from him. He ran his tongue over hers. She slowly opened to him and when he inserted his tongue back into her mouth she wiggled in pleasure. He was slowly making love to her with only his tongue and it was completely erotic.

In sheer panic she tore free of his mouth and then his grasp. She pushed him away from her, her chest heaving, fists clenched at her sides.

"Do you always get what you want? What am I to you? A conquest for your big ego?" she demanded in a low, accusing voice.

"Dammit, I came here to apologise, Elena – to tell you that I love you – I need you."

"You need the Lakehouse – which I own," she fired back and watched his head recoil, his eyes narrowing in a probing study.

"For God sake! Why can't you trust me?" he said irritably.

The doorbell rang.

"Someone is here. I think you should leave."

She took a deep breath and pulled herself together with an act of will before walking to the front door. She yanked open the door and went still.

"Good morning, Elena. Did you sleep well?" It was Elijah. He was holding two large cups of coffee and a bag. "I brought you breakfast."


	15. Chapter 15

"Is that how you greet all your guests?" Elijah asked, with a teasing smile. "Just staring at them?"

Elena blinked. "Um, I just didn't expect to see you so early."

"There is this bakery shop near the hotel I'm staying. They serve good coffee and beautiful muffins." He held out the coffee and the bag to her. "Try their blue berry muffins and I can guarantee you will love them."

"Elena is not much of a breakfast eater."

Thinking he was alone with Elena, Elijah jumped, his head snapped up at the same time. Elena turned quickly to see Damon leaning negligently against the staircase.

"Elena doesn't eat too much for breakfast. You can save the muffins for yourself, Elijah" He fixed a cold, blue stare on Elijah.

"Elijah," she stammered as she turned to face Elijah. "Thanks for your coffee and muffins." She grabbed the cup and bag from Elijah with a nervous smile.

"You don't eat muffins for breakfast. You only have toast." Damon pointed out. His gaze never left Elijah.

Elena shot Damon a deadly look. There was a moment of tense silence.

Elijah turned to Damon. "So it's pleasure that brought you to Mystic Falls?" he inquired, his glance slide back to Elena, and catching her slight tensing.

"I'm here to see my girlfriend." Damon flicked his eyes in Elena's direction then levelled them on Elijah once again. "Flew in last night. Gave her a surprise. Decided to stay the night with her."

Elijah glared at Damon. He knew then. He knew, even before he looked at her and saw the guilt shimmering in her eyes and the embarrassed flush on her cheeks as she yanked her gaze from Damon and stared at the floor. So they slept together last night. The thought turned him cold inside – the hot cold that burned. He could never really have her, could he? Had he lost her? No. He wouldn't accept that. No man would ever love and understand her as well as he did. She would come back to him.

"And what brings you to Mystic Falls, Elijah?"

"I believe you could call it a working vacation," came the smooth reply. "Elena is a good friend and I enjoy her company while I'm here."

Damon stiffened. Elena was aware that Damon was getting angry. His rigid jaw and frigid eyes were clues to his extreme displeasure.

"Um, didn't you say you have some errands to run today?" Elena turned to face Elijah. The tension between the three of them were overwhelming.

"Oh yes. But I can make it for lunch. Why don't I meet you at the art gallery at one?" Elijah said, dismissing Damon and turning his full attention to Elena. He reached out and stroke her arm. "We can have lunch at the Grill."

"Um, sure." Elena shrank away from him and took a side glance at Damon. He was coldly furious. The metallic coldness in Damon's eyes left no doubt that Elijah had succeeded in sparking his anger. His jaw worked in vexation, and he held his whole body rigid as though trying to keep a rein on murderous impulses.

With a smile on his face, Elijah left. When the front door slam behind Elijah, Damon raked her body with those glinting eyes and drawled, "I'm going to make us some breakfast." Then he turned and walked to the kitchen.

She went to stand in the doorway of the kitchen. Damon filled the kettle and set it on the stove.

"I have put the bread in the toaster. If you want anything else, I will cook for you." He took the cup of coffee and the bag from her. "Muffins are not for you."

"I don't like muffins anyway," Elena answered as he set the cup and the bag on the counter.

He glanced at her, brows raised but she didn't say anything more. She opened the refrigerator and meditated on the contents for a moment. After a while she removed a carton of low-fat milk and a bottle of peanut butter.

"Don't you have coffee in the morning?" Damon asked curiously.

"I do. But I just don't want to have coffee this morning." She poured the milk into a glass before getting the toast from the toaster.

He should probably say something, he thought. But he wasn't sure what she expected from him. A tiny shriek rose from the kettle and he hastily poured the hot water into the pot. He pulled a plate out of the cupboard and unpacked two large muffins from the bag.

When they were both seated, they ate in silence; both of them concentrated on their food. Elena didn't want to say anything to bring back the angry Damon she had seen earlier. He seemed more relaxed. Maybe they could have a descent conversation after breakfast, she thought.

"Great muffins," he said after he had consumed the last of the second muffin.

"I thought you won't like the muffins since Elijah bought them."

Damon narrowed his eyes. "Why do you have to mention him? Especially you know that I don't like him."

"Forget what I said then." She didn't have the mood to argue back. Instead she stood up.

Damon pushed back his chair and got to his feet. He cornered her by the kitchen table, rested his hands on both sides of her and looked down at her with a set of turbulent blue eyes that made Elena shudder. "Are you on the pill?"

She blinked. "What?"

He frowned as though to say You heard me. Are you going to make me repeat it? "Is that a yes or a no?"

Elena liked neither his stance nor his tone. "It's none of your damn business."

"Unfortunately, as of last night it is."

A tide of anger surged through her. "Listen to me, Damon Salvatore. I reassure you there won't be any consequences to you nine months from now."

His jaw turned iron. "I'm not worry about you getting pregnant. I want you to marry me."

Elena gaped at him, stunned. "I'm not marrying you." She fumed. "I can't marry you."

"Another thing we need to talk about. Soon," Damon said ominously.

"There's nothing to talk about," she replied defensively. _I have to get away from him. Now._

"You can deny it all you want, but your body wants me even if you loathe me." He leaned down until she could feel his heated breath against her lips. He captured her mouth in a fierce embrace that made Elena's core clench in response. His kiss was possessive. Wild. All-consuming. It was the kind of embrace that she didn't have the strength to resist. Arms wrapped around his neck, she squeaked as his hands covetously palmed her bottom and lifted her onto the table. His lips never left hers.

For just a moment, Elena's heart beat erratically in satisfaction, and she immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, to feel him even tighter, closer. Her heart sighed and her body caught fire as Damon kissed her as if he had to have the connection, as if he needed her mouth more than he needed anything else.

She pulled her mouth from his and pushed against his shoulders. "Let go."

"We will get married," he demanded of her. She looked at him like he had lost his mind. There was no way she would marry him.

"You need to understand this really quickly, Mr Salvatore," she said with sarcasm as she wriggled out of his embrace. "I won't marry you, ever. Not when you used me to get the Lakehouse."

"Have you ever thought why Elijah is so eager to help you to get back the Lakehouse?" he bit out, watching Elena.

"Because he is my friend."

"Oh really?" he mocked. "Don't forget the Mikaelson is one of the largest land developers in Richmond and Mystic Falls in recent years."

His words blindsided her. "What do you mean?"

"I told you before, Elena. Dunham Lake will be a popular vacation area. Some other developers will want a piece of this pie. The Mikaelson is no exception."

Elena's head reeled, her body nearly motionless with shock as she looked up at Damon's cold expression. "I don't believe you," she told him breathlessly.

"Have you asked him?" He challenged her. "You accuse me of lying to you and using you to get the Lakehouse. What about him? Don't you think it is strange Elijah has suddenly appeared in Mystic Falls after you have ended the engagement with him six months ago?"

"What exactly are you implying, Damon?"

"Sloan Harrison doesn't work for me, Elena. She works for Sage."

"Sage?" she gaped. Sage was Finn Mikaelson's ex-wife. "They divorced a year ago."

"I have heard the two of them are back together. They are thinking of reconciliation."

"But it still doesn't mean the Mikaelson is after the Lakehouse," she quickly and defensively stated. "Sage is a property agent. She could be working for other developers."

His jaw tightened. "Why are you defending Elijah? Can't you see his motives?"

"I'm not defending him!" she yelled back. "Everyone knows Salvatore Corporate is after Dunham Lake, not the Mikaelson."

"I have to stop them to protect the Lakehouse!" Damon almost shouted at her.

"Why do you keep this from me?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You could tell me everything – if you had been honest with me – I probably would have believed you. But you didn't."

"I admit that was a mistake, the biggest mistake."

"Yes, it was," she interrupted. "You won't get the Lakehouse. I will make my claim on the Lakehouse legally."

"Dammit!" He cursed in frustration. "You don't understand, do you? You are seriously the most frustrating woman I have ever had to deal with."

"Then stop dealing with me and go away," she cried out.

They glared at one another, neither willing to back down. They were both breathing hard as the silence drug on. Damon suddenly pulled her up against him and crushed his lips down on hers. She was too shocked to react at first and stood there like a rag doll, as his tongue rubbed over her lips, looking for a way to enter.

When she came out of her shock, she pushed against him for about three seconds, before the heat started to pool in her stomach and thighs. Her anger quickly changed to an all-consuming passion as his lips continued to stroke hers, while his hands rubbed up and down her back.

His own temper had seemed to evaporate as he continued to stroke her body and mouth. She gasped as a current of electricity shot down her core, making her knees go weak. The gasp was all he needed to slip his tongue inside. He tangled it with hers and the fire built up to an inferno inside of her.

She was no longer trying to push him away but clutching him closer to her. She forgot about the fight, her anger, or even who she was, as he deepened the kiss. His hands moved down to grip her backside and pull her up against his very obvious arousal. Within minutes she wanted him.

He backed her up against the counter and lifted her, so he could slide between her legs. He never broke contact with her lips. She had never been so devoured in her life and she didn't have any desire for it to end. There really was a very thin line between anger and passion and she had crossed it without any thought.

He spread her legs apart, pressing himself up close against her, as he continued with the heart-stopping kiss. Her hands circled up, around his neck, while her fingers dove into his thick hair. She tugged on the strands, pulling him closer to her. He growled in his throat as he gladly obliged her unspoken request. In the back of her mind, there was a voice shouting at her to stop but she didn't want to listen. She wanted to keep feeling the exquisite pleasure he was bringing her needy body.

Her nails dug into his skin. She was so glad he didn't wear his shirt this morning and she heard herself growl with pleasure. He broke the kiss long enough to pull her shirt over her head and fling it away, then went back to kissing her. His fingers reached for the clasp of her bra as he planted a fervent kiss on the upper curve of her breast.

"Damon." Elena panicked when it fell open. "No, we shouldn't…"

"You are my girlfriend and I want you to be my wife," he said thickly. "You deserve a little better than to be banged against the counter."

He swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs to her bed before laying her down. He followed her down. Their mouths met for another deep, wet kiss. She undid his fly, or rather they undid it together, clumsy fingers battling over the metal buttons until her fingers, no longer clumsy, closed around him. He groaned an incoherent string of swearwords as he shoved off his pants and then worked the baggy pants down her legs.

Then he guided his rigid erection into the moist, oval opening. When he was fully buried inside her, he turned his face into her neck and gently pulled her skin between his teeth. Elena's body responded instantly. Her inner muscles flexed, tightly squeezing him. With a low sound, he mindlessly began rocking his hips forward and backward.

She clung to him. Each rhythmic stroke propelled her closer to the light glimmering at the end of a dark tunnel. Her eyelids fluttered. She raced, harder and faster.

The light exploded around her brilliantly and she was consumed.

Damon released a long, low moan. His whole body tensed. He came and came and came, scalding and fierce, until he was completely empty.

When it was over and their bodies were relaxed, but still emanating heat, Damon raised his head to look into her eyes. "I love you, Elena," he whispered huskily.

Acting on instinct and overwhelming need, she reached up and touched his jaw before their seeking mouths came together in a long, slow, wet kiss.

Then they slept.

She was gone when Damon woke up. His eyes went to the clock, realizing with shock that it was almost noon. He tossed off the blanket, rolled out of bed and yanked on his pants. Then he remembered – she was supposed to meet Elijah in the art gallery.

"Damn," he swore as he went down the stairs two at time, his heart racing.

"Elena!"

There was no answer. The house was empty.

Damon snatched his phone from the pocket of his pants and sent a text message to her phone.

 _Where are you?_

He tapped his finger against the plastic cover of the phone, impatient. Hell, he didn't even know if she had her phone, but he'd be pissed if she didn't.

The phone beeped and he read the return text.

 _Busy. Talk later._

He couldn't believe what he read. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, nearly yanking a few locks from his head. What did she mean by she was busy? Why was she busy?

His fingers flew as he typed another text.

 _Are you in the art gallery? I'm on my way._

The phone beeped again a moment later, but he ignored it. He already knew it was Elena, probably telling him not to come. He shot up the stairs, put on his shirt, jacket and shoes, then almost ran down the stairs and exited the front door of the house, not even flinching when it slammed violently behind him.

x x x

"I thought you like the Grill." Elijah looked at Elena closely.

Elijah turned up at the art gallery just before one. Instead of having lunch at the Grill, Elena brought him to the park in front of the Town Hall.

"I like the hot-dog here." She took a mouthful of her hot-dog. "My parents used to bring us here when we were children."

"You must miss them a lot."

There was a brief pause. Although she would always lament the premature deaths of both parents, she was suited to living independently. Or maybe she had embraced her solitary state only because she knew she had no choice. Then she met Elijah. Elijah had made her laugh – the way her father used to. And being with him made her felt loved again. But she didn't love him.

Instantly an image of Damon Salvatore flashed in her mind. Suddenly she could see that faintly wicked glint in his azure eyes, the raffish charm of his smirk, and that aura of virility he wore so casually. She smiled. Being with Damon made her felt alive again. It made her felt that everything was possible.

The stirring memories of last night and this morning's lovemaking were fresh in her mind. Physical love – no matter how enjoyable and satisfying – was a momentary thing. It couldn't right the damage that had been done. What Damon said might be true but he had still lied to her. He had betrayed her.

"Elena?" Elijah touched her arm gently. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright." She straightened herself and took a sip of the Diet Coke from the can.

"I got you something." Elijah handed a large bag to her. "I think you will like them."

Curious, she peered into the bag. There was a sketchpad, a box of paints and brushes inside.

"I know you have started painting. You will find them useful."

"Thank you," she whispered while her chest contracted painfully and her stomach clenched into knots. Tears burned her eyes, and at that moment she knew—she couldn't return his love. Not when she was hopelessly obsessed with Damon in her mind and her heart. Lifting her head, she forced herself to meet Elijah's gaze and held the bag out to him. "But I can't accept this."

"Why not?" he began, but he already knew the answer to that, had sensed this moment was coming. "So that's the way it is," he said harshly. "Damon won."

"Not completely," she said quietly, "but whatever happens between Damon and me, you will always be my friend."

After a moment of tense silence, he said, "Are you two back together?"

"No!" she explained a little wildly. "Things are still messy between us. I need some time to think about what to do."

"You have forgiven him, haven't you?"

She shook her head. "I'm still mad at him because he lied to me. But what he said sort of makes sense."

Elijah went still. "What did he say?"

"The tourism is growing in Mystic Falls and eventually Dunham Lake will be a popular vacation area. Sooner or later, developers will start building hotels or resorts in the area." She paused and shifted her gaze to him. "Elijah, is the Mikaelson after the land in Dunham Lake?"

Elijah said nothing.

"Don't lie to me, Elijah. Please."

He took a deep breath. "Yes, we were interested in Dunham Lake but trust me, Elena. I never intend to use you to get the Lakehouse. I care so much about you. I will never hurt you."

Elena beetled her brows. "Why are you helping me to get the Lakehouse back from Damon? Why?"

He looked at her. "Because of you. I know the Lakehouse means a lot to you. I want you to be happy. I can't stand seeing you upset. I want to make Damon angry. I know he would. I hate the thought of you two together. I'm jealous because I'm still in love with you. I love you, Elena."

"I know," she murmured softly. "I'm sorry, Elijah. I don't deserve you…"

"You are worth it," he answered firmly. The he gave out a soft laugh. "I thought I stand a chance of winning you back if I help you getting the Lakehouse from Damon…" His voice trailed off. Then he pushed back the bag to Elena. "Keep them. I want you to have them," he said with a grim smile. "Damon is lucky. I really hate that bastard."

"And you will always be my friend." Elena reached out and held his hand in hers. "Someday you will find a woman who truly loves you."

"Yeah," he muttered. "Someday."


	16. Chapter 16

When Elena returned to the art gallery, Damon was at the counter with a woman. She was flirting openly with him and Elena was surprised to feel the coil of jealousy in her gut. She told herself she didn't want to be with him and she didn't care who he flirted with but when the woman let out a giggle and fluttered her eyelashes, she had to fight not to claw at her.

"Someone will deliver this painting to your hotel. It was so great to meet you and I hope you have a wonderful time here in Mystic Falls," he said with a flirtatious smile. The woman actually blushed before she finally turned around to leave. Elena stood there, open-mouthed as he turned around.

"Your boyfriend – me – certainly has the talent in sales," he said to her as he handed her the receipt. "Maybe you should consider employing me instead of April." He winked at her.

"Where's April?"

"Lunch. I told her I can look after the art gallery. Seriously, you need to hire an attractive guy to work here. Then the sales would go way up," he teased.

"I don't need your business advice, Damon," she snapped. "This is an art gallery. People come here because of arts, not because there is a good looking guy working here."

"Just a suggestion, honey."

"Don't call me honey." Elena glared at him.

"Okay, sweetheart." He walked towards her, a smile lurking at his mouth.

She folded her arms across her chest. "It's not funny, Damon."

"I don't think it's funny either, darling." He moved closer, step by step.

"Please don't call me that," she cried and backed away a step.

"Why are you afraid?" he asked.

Why was she afraid, Elena thought a little wildly. Because she wasn't sure whether she could believe him. Because she never wanted to be hurt again.

She backed away another step, her voice shook. "I…I'm not afraid. I have tons of work to do. Why don't you leave?"

"We need to talk, Elena," Damon said softly.

"We have nothing to talk about. It's over. We are over, remember?"

"It isn't finished between us," he said grimly. "I wasn't lying when I told you I love you, Elena."

"You are trying to win me back because you are worried you will lose the Lakehouse."

"That's not true!"

"It doesn't matter," Elena said, giving herself a mental shake. "Damon, please. If you really care about me, let me get back the Lakehouse. Don't try to stop me. You know how much the place means to me."

Her words cut him deeply enough to make him brusquely say, "You believe I would try to stop you from getting back the Lakehouse."

"Would you?"

He drew a deep breath. "I thought you knew me better than that."

Elena looked at him and said nothing.

"You don't trust me anymore, do you?" he asked softly.

"I want to trust you." She swallowed hard. "But I can't. Not now."

She raked her hair off her forehead and started to step away but he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, waiting until she lifted her eyes to his. "I made a mistake, a huge mistake. You don't trust me and I can accept that," he told her with quiet force. "But it isn't over between us. I will pick you up at six tonight."

He left then, closing the door behind him.

Damon walked down the street, feeling more frustrated than ever before in his life. He wasn't a man used to being told no and he found he didn't like it. It was more than obvious she still wanted him. So why was she being so difficult? He had messed up with a lie and she'd just have to get over it. He wasn't going to give up. Hell, he would never give up on Elena.

He arrived at her art gallery five minutes before six and was very proud of himself for acting so calm. He walked in the doors and after she glanced up to see who it was, she went back to what she was doing, as if he wasn't there.

He was getting really tired of her acting like he was non-existent. He walked over to her and stood there, with their body's touching. He knew she couldn't ignore him if he was touching her.

"Have you ever heard of giving people their space?" she finally snapped at him. He smiled as he heard the tension in her voice. His presence affected her far more than she wanted to let on.

"But darling you know I love to be close to you," he came right back with.

"Don't call me that!" Elena glared at him.

He had to suppress the urge to laugh and drag her into his arms. "When you are mad, you are exquisite."

"Damon, what do you want?"

"I want to have dinner with my girlfriend," he said quietly.

"Are you enjoying this?" she asked in desperation.

"What?"

"This!" she cried, spreading her arms wide with palms up to encompass the whole situation. "We are over, Damon. Why are you acting as if nothing had happened?"

A spark of annoyance flickered across his face and he put both hands on his hips. "Look, I'm here to take you to dinner. I'm hungry now and so are you. Can't we just sit down like two mature adults and have a proper meal together without fighting?"

"Fine. Dinner only. Then I'm going home. Alone."

"We can talk about plan after dinner. Believe me, Elena I can think of several other ways I would rather spend an evening with you." He fixed her with a warm blue stare and added suggestively, "Shall I elaborate?"

For a moment, she was lost in the depths of his eyes, but she managed to answer hoarsely, "No. Let's just get this over with."

x x x

In Richmond, a well-dressed woman walked inside a small café in the middle of the block. The place was just starting to fill up with the after-work crowd. A cheerful gas fire cast an inviting glow.

The chalkboard listed several brands of beer from local microbreweries and half a dozen premium wines by the glass. Another hand-lettered menu on the wall featured a variety of oyster appetizers and happy-hour specials.

"Hello, Esther," she said as she settled into a wooden booth.

"Hello, Dahlia."

Esther picked up her chardonnay, took a sip and set the glass down very precisely on the little napkin. "I'm sure you have heard about the Lakehouse."

Dahlia nodded. "What are you going to do?"

Esther studied the wine in her glass. "Elena Gilbert doesn't deserve my Elijah. She is silly and naïve to fall for Damon Salvatore. Just like Joseph Salvatore didn't deserve our grandmother. My Elijah deserves someone better."

"Damon is a Salvatore. He is cut from the same cloth and it's a bad cloth."

"I agree," Esther said. "He is good for nothing like all the rest of them. I'm glad Rebekah has ended her relationship with him a long time ago."

"How silly was our grandmother to believe Joseph Salvatore was a good man." Dahlia tightened her fists together. "He was a monster. He used her to get his hands on grandfather's business."

"Our grandfather died too young and grandmother was lost. Joseph Salvatore appeared at the right time. She thought he was her knight in shining armour." Esther sighed. "He left her in the end and she became outcasts because of what happened. Even her oldest friends started avoiding her. She got tired of being ostracized that she had to leave Richmond."

Dahlia studied Esther intensely. "What's on your mind, Esther?"

"Joseph Salvatore built the Lakehouse for Katherine Pierce. Don't you think it's time for us to do something?" She raised her glass in a little toast. "I can't stand the cottage."

Dahlia poured herself a glass of wine and raised it in a toast. "I agree. I don't like it either."

x x x

Dinner proved to be more of an ordeal than Elena had expected. She had forgotten how incredibly Damon could be when he set out to charm. More than once she had caught herself responding to that seductive smile of his or that lazy glint in his eyes. Damon suggested to take her SUV so that she didn't have to come back to collect her car at the art gallery after dinner. They went to a little French restaurant with a reputation for serving excellent nouvelle cuisine which was an hour drive from Mystic Falls.

When Damon suggested an after-dinner drink, Elena refused. In the past she would have lingered, wanting to prolong their tie together, but not anymore. Instead she made her excuses to leave, explaining that she had to meet with some people from the museums early tomorrow. She doubted that he believed her. Not that it mattered. If he chose to think she was running from him, that was all the better.

But Damon didn't make it easy for her to escape, insisting walking her to the front door.

"Thank you for dinner," she said as slid her key into the front-door lock.

"I'm glad you like French cuisine," he said with a boyish half smile. "Maybe we can try other cuisines next time. What about Indian? Do you like curries?"

She reached around the edge of the door and flipped a light switch. "I don't think it's a good idea, Damon."

"Why not?" Damon glided, uninvited, through the opening into the front hall.

"Damon…" She was not quite certain what to do with him now that he was inside her house.

"You can't put up with my company?"

Elena closed the door and leaned back against it. "You are going to make this difficult, aren't you?"

"There's something between us and I'm not ready to let it go," he said forcefully as he closed the distance between them. "You are still in love with me."

"No!"

"Then what the hell were you doing in bed with me last night and this morning?"

Elena drew a shaky breath. "It was a mistake. It wasn't supposed to happen."

"Don't lie to me! We couldn't get enough of each other in that bed, and you damned well know it!" When she remained stubbornly, resistantly silent, he pushed her harder. "And you have absolutely no desire to make love with me again, is that it?"

"That's it!"

"How would you like to give me five minutes to prove you're wrong?"

"I wouldn't," Elena flung back.

"Do you honestly think," he said more quietly, "I'm naive enough not to know you wanted me as badly as I wanted you?"

"I'm sure you're experienced enough to gauge how a woman feels to within a fraction of a sigh!" she shot back. "I'm not your conquest."

"You are not my conquest, Elena." Damon took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to meet his gaze. In an aching, solemn voice he asked, "Hasn't it occurred to you that I might be telling you the truth, that I might honestly be in love with you, and I would have wanted you for my wife whether you own the Lakehouse or not?" Elena swallowed audibly, mesmerized by the melting look in his intense blue eyes and the rich timbre of his deep voice. "When are you going to marry me?" he continued as bent his head his lips against her temple.

"When are you going to give up and stop asking?" she said in a slightly shaky voice.

"When you say yes."

Sighing, she continued, "You're either steadfast or stubborn. I can't decide which."

"Both." He rubbed his lips over hers and she responded by letting her lips part. But slightly. Slightly. So that when his tongue touched the seam of her lips, it had to probe them gently to gain the sweet inside.

He groaned low and long as his tongue delved into the warm interior of her mouth, reaching far, swirling deep. He angled his head; she tilted hers in a corresponding movement. Their mouths were sealed.

It seemed like hours later when he finally dragged his mouth from hers. Her heart racing like a trip-hammer.

"You have no idea how much I need you, Elena," he whispered huskily. "Being around you drives me nuts. And not being around you drives me nuts."

As declaration went, it was a little short on romance but long on impact. The wall Elena had felt growing between them crumbled.

His thumb made a slow circle on her cheek. "Is there a chance, Elena? Any chance we could rekindle the fire we started a few weeks ago?"

She wasn't about to tell him that his touch had already set a spark to the flames.

His mouth was a fraction of an inch from hers when the shrill ring of the telephone made her lurch out of his arms.

"Hello?"

"Elena, it's Sheriff Forbes."

Elena tightened her grip on the phone. "Yes?"

"You need to come over to the Lakehouse. As soon as possible."

"What's wrong?" Panic and fear surged through her.

"We will talk when you arrive, sweetheart. See you soon."

With shaking fingers, Elena replaced the receiver. Her arms began to tremble and then her knees, until her whole body was quaking with futility, and she braced her palms on the desk to steady herself.

Damon came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Elena?" he said, his voice deep with concern. "Who was that? Is anything wrong?"

Even her voice shook. "That was Sheriff Forbes. The Lakehouse. Something happened to the Lakehouse."


	17. Chapter 17

Elena felt everything inside her turn to stone when she saw the sheriff's patrol car parked in the drive. Sheriff Forbes was standing on the front porch talking to her team.

Damon hit the breaks and switched off the engine. "Everything will be okay, Elena."

"I don't think so," Elena surveyed the scene on the porch. "I have a bad feeling."

She got the SUV's door open and she loped toward the steps. Sheriff Forbes looked at her.

"What happened?" Elena asked.

"Looks like someone broke into the Lakehouse," Sheriff Forbes said.

Elena rushed into the cottage. The house felt unaccountably cold. A chill that had nothing to do with the draft of cold air went through her. The living room was in chaos. The floor rug was torn into pieces. Pieces of broken china were scattered across the floor.

She finally identified the source of the cold draft. It came through the broken windows in the living room.

Damon came up behind her. He frowned. "Are you okay?"

Elena didn't answer him, just stared, disbelieving, at the mess.

"Any idea who was responsible for this, Sheriff?" Damon asked.

"We have no suspects so far," Sheriff Forbes answered. "The Lakehouse is quite secluded. One of the owners nearby drove past this evening and noticed the windows were broken, and he called us." She turned to Elena. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Too emotional to speak, Elena nodded.

"Sheriff, do you think a burglar could have done this?" Damon asked.

"We don't keep anything really valuable here because the cottage is empty for weeks, sometimes months," Elena said shakily. "Still, there's the old television and the new answering machine. And the paintings…..Oh no!"

Galvanized, she rushed toward the guest bedroom. As soon as she turned the corner she saw that the door stood partially ajar. But through the narrow opening she could see that something was very wrong inside.

The canvas on the easel had been ripped to shreds. Rags, brushes, and knives were scattered across the floor. There was paint everywhere. The contents of several tubes of paint had been smeared across one wall and the floor. The palette lay upside down on the bed. Pages of drawings had been ripped from the sketchbook and crumpled into balls.

"What the hell?" Damon swore as he walked into the room.

Sheriff Forbes looked serious. "Don't think a burglar had done this. This is vandalism. Did you get into trouble recently, Elena?"

She shook her head. But she was gripped by a terrible intuition. Damon. Was this a warming from him? Another small chill wafted through her.

Sheriff Forbes cleared her throat. "Damon, can I have a word with you?" She angled a brief, meaningful glance at Damon. "Alone."

Damon raised his eyebrows but didn't object. He moved out onto the porch after Sheriff Forbes and closed the door behind them. They stood in the yellow light and looked at the cars parked in the drive.

"I have heard the Salvatore Corporate is after the land in Dunham Lake," Sheriff Forbes said.

Damon braced a hand on the porch railing, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Elena is trying to claim the Lakehouse back legally and this happens," Sheriff Forbes narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you have no idea what I'm talking about."

"My girlfriend's holiday home is being vandalised and shouldn't you be looking hard for suspects?" Damon raised his voice slightly.

"We have no suspects. Unless the perpetrator is right in front of me."

Damon's jaw tightened. "You think I'm responsible?"

Sheriff Forbes continued to stare at him.

"Seriously, stop looking at me like that, Sheriff. Elena is my girlfriend. I will never do anything to hurt her."

Sheriff Forbes looked thoughtful. "I don't think you will hurt her." She went down the steps. "I will be in touch. Watch over her."

When Damon returned to the cottage, he found Elena standing at the bedroom window, gazing out into the night.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"Did you do it?" She did not turn around. "Did you vandalise the Lakehouse?"

"Am I wearing my 'I vandalise the Lakehouse' t-shirt, why does everybody keep asking me that?" he asked grouchily.

"Did you?" Elena turned around. Rage infused her face. "Did you do this, Damon?"

"No!"

"Don't lie to me!" she cried. "Every rotten thing they say about you—it's all true, isn't it? It doesn't matter who you hurt or what you have to do to get what you want, does it?"

His face tightened. "I didn't do it."

"Why are you doing this to me? You know how much this place means to me. Why do you have to destroy it?"

"I said I didn't do it!" he almost screamed out.

"Yes, you did!" She whirled on Damon, hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Bastard!" she hissed. "Was this a warning? What are you going to do next? Threaten me?" Damon reached for her at the same moment Elena swung, her palm crashing against his face with a force that snapped his head sideways.

"Stop it!" he ordered, grabbing her upper arms.

"Bastard!" she sobbed, glaring at Damon. "You bastard, how dare you!"

Damon yanked her against his chest. "Listen to me!" he said tautly, turning Elena aside. "I didn't do it! Dammit! I will never do anything to hurt you. Why can't you trust me?"

Elena stopped struggling but her whole body was trembling and she covered her face with her hands.

"I didn't do it, Elena," he said quietly and since Elena had stopped resisting, he dropped his arms. "I swear to God. I didn't do it."

Her shoulders sagged, her bravado fleeing. "Who did this then?"

"Elijah," he pointed out bluntly.

"No." She shook her head. "Elijah won't do that."

"Why not?" Damon fired back.

"Why would he do that?"

"Revenge. He wants revenge."

A cold chill went through Elena. She could hardly speak. "But why?"

"He didn't get the Lakehouse. And most important of all, he didn't get you." Damon said firmly.

She stared at him. "You seriously think Elijah is behind this?"

"It will be hard to prove that he has done anything illegal. The Mikaelson family is smart and they can be very slick. Very devious."

She hugged herself and rubbed her arms briskly, as though warding off a chill. "There is nothing you can do to prove Elijah is behind this."

"Don't worry about it. Enzo and I will think of something," Damon said, watching her.

She frowned. "What?"

"I will have my way, darling," he assured her cheerfully.

"No." Alarm washed through her. "Don't you dare, Damon Salvatore, I'm warning you now, do anything silly."

"Take it easy, honey. I have dealt with a lot of people like Elijah. I'm good at this."

"No!" she yelped. "I don't want you handling this on your own. Let Sheriff Forbes deals with this. Do you understand me?"

Damon looked surprised and then pleased. "Worried about me?"

"Of course I'm worried. I don't want you to take any risk on my account and I mean it."

He gave her his sexy grin and reached out to slide a hand through her hair. Warm fingers encircled her nape. His thumb stroked a line along her jaw.

"You still care about me," he whispered huskily.

"No." She disengaged herself from him abruptly. "I don't want you handle this on your own. I will talk to Elijah."

"No." There was no give in the single word. "I don't want you anywhere near him."

She hesitated. "I don't believe Elijah will hurt me."

"Listen, we aren't even sure what is this about. Just promise me you will not see him alone."

She sighed. "Fine."

"You are tired. You need to rest. We will come back tomorrow to clear the mess."

She did not argue when Damon suggested that they go back to the Salvatore boarding house. "Won't let you out of my sight." That was what he told her on the way back to Mystic Falls. She knew that she would not sleep. But she didn't like the idea of being alone in her house.

While he made them a pot of tea, she walked over to the windows. He came up behind her and slid his arm around her waist, drawing her back against him, and in the window was their own reflection … a man holding his woman in his arms. They looked at their reflection and Damon saw the tears shimmering in her eyes. "Don't cry, Elena. Everything will be okay," he said softly, bending his head to nuzzle her neck.

Elena swallowed and tipped her head back. "I can't believe someone damaged the Lakehouse," she sobbed. Her voice was shaking with emotion.

Damon tightened his arms protectively around her. "I promise you I will not let anyone hurt you."

"My parents would be so upset if they knew what happened to the Lakehouse," she said shakily.

He turned her in his arms and there was a smile in his voice as he lifted his hand to smooth her hair back. "They would be so proud to know their daughter has grown into such an amazing person."

She smiled a little at that. "Thank you. I don't know what I would do if you weren't here."

Then she pressed her lips to his.

The tentative kiss rocked his world. Her lips were soft and sweet. He allowed her to explore the line of his mouth, gaining confidence, until the tip of her tongue slowly pushed between the seams of his lips. With a low growl, he opened for her, desperately trying to hold back his instinct to throw her on the sofa and dive between her legs. Her tongue swept in and swirled around his in a teasing battle.

He slid his hands down, grabbed her back, and lifted her against him. She made a little mewling noise, but he swallowed it and claimed her mouth the way he craved. He drank deep, drowning in her taste. Within seconds, she slumped against him and surrendered, letting him drink his fill as her fingers thrust into his hair and held his head still for her own demands. Slowly, he eased back and looked down at her face.

"I want to throw you on my bed and get you naked. Touch and taste every part of your body. Then make you come so hard the only thing you can scream is my name. But I know you are probably not in the mood tonight. Am I correct?"

She nodded, unable to speak.

"You can have my room. I will sleep in the guestroom. I will get some blankets and a pillow."

An hour later Elena was still awake. She stared up at the deep shadows on the ceiling. She was intensely aware of the fact that Damon was just in the next room. Was he asleep? Less than an hour ago she hadn't wanted to be in bed with Damon, and now she did. Common sense warned her that her future was already terrifyingly uncertain, and that giving in to her growing attraction to him would only make things more complicated.

Weariness finally nudged her and she closed her eyes.

x x x

Esther was thinking of shutting down the computer and getting ready to join her sister Dahlia for lunch when Elijah threw open the door and stalked towards the desk. Jules, her secretary was running behind him, trying to catch up.

This did not look good.

"Mother, how dare you?" Elijah shouted. He rarely raised his voice but he was so angry, he couldn't control himself.

"I'm so sorry Mrs Mikaelson. I couldn't stop…" Jules said a bit breathlessly.

"Thank you Jules, you can leave us now," was all Esther said, in her calm, controlled voice she had developed.

Jules nodded before heading out the door.

"Didn't I teach you about manners, Elijah?" Esther finally said.

"What in the world are you doing?" Elijah's voice cracked. "No, don't bother explaining. I know exactly what you're doing."

Esther raised her brows. "You do?"

"You want to scare Elena so that she would think Damon Salvatore is trying to stop her from getting back the Lakehouse. It's very obvious, isn't it? But why do you have to trash the Lakehouse? The place means a lot to Elena."

"Now, honey," Esther said in placating tones. "You were always blind where Elena was concerned. However, I'm not going to let you close your eyes this time. Elena doesn't deserve you, Elijah. She doesn't love you. You, my son deserve a much better woman."

"I don't need your advice about my love life!" Elijah roared. His brows bristling, jaw clenched, and glowered at Esther. "I'm warning you, mother. Stay away from Elena."

"So what are you going to do?" Esther said dryly. "Report to the police and tell them I'm the one who trashed the Lakehouse?"

"Mother, stay away from Elena," Elijah warned.

"You do love her, don't you?"

"Yes, I do!"

"Even she doesn't love you?" Esther asked him with a smirk. "Even her heart belongs to Damon Salvatore and you would still love her?"

Elijah glared at her. "Stay out of this. This is between Elena and me."

"I'm your mother. You are my son. I'm involved in this thing too. I don't want my son to get hurt."

Elijah felt a sudden, painful lump of emotion in his throat, but her next words were blunt and cold. "Elena doesn't deserve you. Just like Joseph Salvatore didn't deserve your great grandmother."

Elijah blinked. "My great grandmother?" he repeated blankly.

"Your great grandmother was widowed in her mid-twenties. She had two children to look after and a business left by your great grandfather. Joseph Salvatore used her to get his hands into the business."

Elijah held his breath. "I don't believe this."

"Well, it was the truth. Your great grandmother eventually left Richmond and moved to Hampton. Nobody knew about this."

"Joseph Salvatore was a monster."

Elijah turned around and found Dahlia standing near the doorway.

"But it was a long time ago. Why is Elena involved in this?" Elijah asked.

"Don't you see it?" Dahlia walked closer to Elijah. "She's like Joseph Salvatore. She uses you and treats you like nothing."

"That's not true!" Elijah argued back. "Elena will not do such thing."

"You are so blindly in love with her, my son. You can't see her flaws," Esther said.

"I'm on your mother's side, Elijah," Dahlia said. "She is trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" Elijah cried out. "Do you know what you are doing? You trashed the Lakehouse. It's illegal!"

Esther shrugged. "Nobody can prove anything."

"You keep saying that," Elijah said. "Damon Salvatore may not let it go easily."

Dahlia's mouth fell open but Esther remained calmed and controlled. "He won't be able to prove anything."

Elijah sighed. "Listen, mother, don't try to do anything crazy, okay? I don't want anyone to get hurt, especially not Elena," he said quietly before he made his exit.

After he left, Dahlia turned to Esther. "He really loves her."

"Silly boy," Esther muttered. "Elena Gilbert doesn't deserve Elijah."

"What are you going to do next?" Dahlia asked hesitantly. "Elijah is right. Damon Salvatore may not let this go easily."

Esther shrugged. "He can't prove anything, can he?" She smiled, something dangerous in her eyes. "A group of youngsters who got drunk and did something crazy – do you seriously think the police can link them to us?"

Dahlia's lips turned up at the corner. "You are right. You do crazy things when you are drunk, don't you? And you can't remember the next day."


	18. Chapter 18

Shortly before noon the next day, Elena stood in the living room of the Lakehouse and watched Damon and two men from the renovation company. The three men huddled around the broken windows. Their expressions were grave, their voices hushed and serious. A guy thing, she thought. But she couldn't deny the fact what Damon had done was sweet, really sweet.

"We will fix the windows first before repainting the walls," one of the men said. "At least the inside will not get wet if it rains."

"When can you guys start?" Damon asked. "I want this cottage fixed ASAP."

"No problem," the other man answered. "We will get some measurements of the windows and stopped off at the hardware shop later today. We will have the windows fixed in no time. Then we will deal with the walls and the floor."

"Sounds like a good plan," Damon said before winking at Elena. "Everything will look the same as before. Trust me, honey."

Half an hour later Elena got into the passenger side of her SUV and closed the door. "Thanks."

"No problem." He turned the key in the ignition and checked the rear-view mirror. "I don't mind being the driver."

"No, I mean what you have done for the Lakehouse," she uttered. "For me. Thank you."

"Oh." Damon turned the wheel and drove out of the driveway. "That."

The dry, sardonic amusement that had infused his voice a moment ago was gone now. She shot him a quick glance, trying to read the shift in his mood. But his gaze was fixed at the road in front. She could discern nothing from the hard angles of his profile.

The drive from Dunham Lake to Mystic Falls took about two hours, but those two hours seemed like an eternity. Neither of them talked much. Elena settled deeper into the seat and looked out at the window. She had no idea what was going through Damon's mind. Elena still couldn't understand the man beside her fully despite they had shared many intimate moments.

Damon offered to stop somewhere to eat, but Elena declined, longing for the sanctuary for her own house. It was almost two in the afternoon before they arrived back to Mystic Falls. He turned off the main road, went down the lane that led to her house and brought her SUV to a halt in front of the porch.

"Thanks for driving me back." Elena stirred and unfastened her seat belt.

"You're welcome."

Damon unfastened his seat belt and got out of the SUV. "There you go." He handed the keys to her. "Are you hungry? Do you want to get something to eat?"

"Uh, no. I will make myself a cup of tea afterwards."

There was a brief pause.

"I'm flying back to Washington DC tomorrow morning."

Elena looked up, surprised. "Did something come up?"

"No." His eyes never left her. "I can't stay too long."

She reached out and covered one of his hands with her own. "Damon, I'm sorry. I know you still have a company to run and you can't stay. You have helped me a lot with the Lakehouse today. I'm very grateful."

Damon went very still. "The last thing I want is your gratitude."

"I didn't mean it that way," she said tightly.

"What do you want from me, Elena?" Every sense was sharpened as he waited for an answer that didn't come.

Her eyes widened. "I want nothing from you, Damon." She recoiled, her hand coming off his so swiftly an onlooker would have thought she had gotten her fingers burned.

Anger heated his blood. He clamped down on the fierce surge of emotion, seeking refuge in that inner space to which he always retreated when things threatened to get out of control. "What am I supposed to do, Elena? Why don't you tell me?"

"I have no idea what are you talking about."

"I don't believe you have stopped caring, Elena." As he walked closer, he saw her stiffen. "I have made you angry. And no doubt, I have made you cry. But I still want you, Elena. I want a future with you."

"I need time to think about this, about us," she explained.

He made himself breathe. "I know." He pulled out a letter from his pocket. "Elena, I want you to know that…the Lakehouse is yours. There will be no attempts by me to take it from you. I don't want it. I have never intended to take it in the first place."

"Damon…"

He held out the letter to her. "I found this in one of Katherine's boxes just now. I think you deserve to know the whole story."

Elena held her breath. Her hands were shaking when she took the letter from him.

"I need you, Elena." He hadn't meant to say that, but now that it was out, he said the rest too. "I have always believed that a woman had to be everything to a man – or nothing. You are everything to me, Elena. Everything."

Though Damon's words should have removed all of Elena's misgivings, they didn't. Instead, they invoked a whole new arrays of questions. Could she take another chance with him? Could she lay her heart on the line again?

Based on what he did for the Lakehouse, Elena was inclined to accept that Damon didn't want to hurt her. What Damon did want was to have her back with him, and that was where she would get hurt. Damon's reputation for womanizing was legendary; he was also completely unpredictable and unreliable. The combination was absolutely guaranteed to break her heart.

"I think I should go now." Elena went up the porch steps to the door. Her hands trembled as she tried to dig out the key from her satchel.

"I will be packing at the boarding house tonight," he said behind her. "I hope to see you, Elena. Will you come over?"

"Bye, Damon." She quickly unlocked the door, got into the door and closed the door without looking back at him.

Ten minutes later she went to went to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea after she had changed into a T-shirt and a pair of baggy shorts. Her heart had stopped racing and she felt a lot calmer. Then she headed to the living room and reached for the letter on the coffee table. She opened the envelope, unfolded the pages and began to read…

 _My darling Katherine, I know you will never see this letter because you hate me. God, I miss you so much. You haunt every hour of my life. I wish I had never met you. No – I don't mean that! What good would my life be without my memories of you to make me smile._

 _I keep wondering if Jonathan Gilbert is making you happy. I want you to be. I want you to have a glorious life. That's why I worked so damn hard, thinking money would give you a glorious life. But I was wrong. I knew you wanted me to say I loved you. Not saying that to you was the only selfish thing I did, and now I regret even that._

 _We might have stopped talking, but I will never forget your voice. We might have stopped hugging but I will never forget how you smell. Anything we did, I will never forget._

 _You stole my heart. I would give up all my life if I could change things around. But I couldn't. You are Mrs Jonathan Gilbert now._

 _You have no idea how I wish I could see you again, to hold you in my arms, to make love to you over and over again until I've filled you so completely that there's no room left inside of you for anyone but me._

 _You are the only woman I have ever loved, Katherine. I have never loved Tahlia. It was my fault. I didn't handle the situation well enough. I shouldn't have misled her. She is a widow and she deserves a better man than me. Not only I have let her down, but I have also broken your heart. It was all my fault._

 _I've decided to send this letter to you after all. It's a mistake. I know it is, but I can't stop myself. You are someone's wife. What was I thinking? I shouldn't jeopardize your reputation._

 _I know you like the Lakehouse. I want you to have it. It will always belong to you._

 _I love you, Katherine. I will always love you. Everywhere. Always._

 _Joseph Salvatore_

Hot tears filled her eyes when Elena finished reading the letter. Joseph Salvatore did love Katherine. But he hadn't conveyed his love until it was too late.

Was it too late for Damon and her? Suddenly memories flashed through her mind. Memories of Damon's caring protection of her, of his gentleness on her birthday when she told him about her parents. Memories of his touch, his kiss and his love-making. Memories of how he made her laugh and how he had looked at her to make her felt she was special…She loved Damon Salvatore. He was the man she had dreamed of all her life. It was time she stopped talking herself out of what she wanted and what she felt.

She got to her feet and reached for her car keys. She had to see Damon. Now. Right now.

Damon was pouring himself a glass of bourbon when he heard the pounding on the door. He watched in a stupor of shock and disbelieve when he saw Elena standing outside his house.

"Is…Is it too late for us, Damon?" Elena asked breathlessly.

Just for an instant there was a bright flare of blue – that same warm look he used to give her. Then he glanced at her from head to toe and his mouth curved into that lazy smile that had always tugged at her heart. "It's never too late, Elena, if we don't want it to be."

She touched his face. "I don't want it to be."

The words passed Elena's lips on such a soft whisper, if there had been noise around, Damon wouldn't have heard them. He looked at her as if to make sure he hadn't heard wrongly and she had meant it. "And I never have," he declared huskily.

Elena held his gaze with hers. For the first time, she honestly believed it wasn't too late. Slowly, she ran her tongue over her lips, leaving them moist and inviting. Damon took a deep breath and his insides flipped. Under this kind of sexual pressure, he wasn't sure how long he could hold on.

Continuing to hold his gaze, she stood, took one step toward him, stared into his eyes, then walked her fingers up his chest. "I'm glad we have finally reached an agreement. But I'm really tired of talking." She leaned forward and murmured against his lips, "How about you?"

He smiled slyly and whispered, "As my dear old granny always said, actions speak louder than words." He lowered his head and engulfed her mouth with his.

Heat and sensations far beyond his ability to put words to crashed over him. He held Elena close, infinitely grateful that he had been given this opportunity, one he never thought would be his again.

The kiss was passionate but tender and so much more. It was love in its deepest, purest form. It was a silent promise between them that they would have a life together. They would have a family together.

Catching his breath, he pulled away from her and stroke the side of her face with the back of his hand. "So what do you say, Miss Gilbert? Marry me?"

"I think I can tolerate being called Mrs Salvatore." She grinned. "The answer is yes!" She threw her arms around his neck and hung on while he whirled her around at the front door, both of them laughing like kids.

He stopped, let her slide down in front and then captured her lips in a deep kiss full of promise and love and a fistful of forever before kicking the door closed and steering her toward his bedroom.

In the bedroom, all the raw urgency, all the need for haste that had brought them to the bedroom fled. They stood facing each other, less than three feet apart. Without either saying a word, they slowly began to undress, peeling off layer after layer. It was more than their clothes they stripped away and more than their bodies they bared to each other. As they looked, really looked at each other, they exposed their feelings, their hearts and their minds to the other.

When Damon held out his hand to her, Elena felt like crying because there was something so beautiful in the moment. As she gave him her hand, they moved toward each other, meeting in the middle of the space, their bodies touching. At last she could feel the heat of his body, the hard muscled wall of his chest and the powerful columns of his thighs.

He held her gaze, his thumb idly stroking the hollows behind her ears. "I love you, Elena."

"I love you too, Damon Salvatore," she whispered back as she rose to meet his seeking lips.

By the time he laid her on the bed, she was receptive and warm and very wet. He pushed himself into her, she enveloped him in her heat, and for a mindless, endless time, they mated with the merest of movements, rocking against each other in motions as fluid as a calm surf.

He withdrew only long enough to press a kiss onto her lips before sinking into her again, then pressing himself deeper still. He barely had to move, he didn't want to, because she sheathed him so tightly, so completely, the pulsing of their bodies, his inside hers, brought her to orgasm. He held her hips tightly between his hands and felt each sweet contraction.

He didn't have to care about being unprotected now because he knew Elena would be happy to have babies with him. His babies. She tilted her hips up as though reaching for more, her hands on his back were restless and urgent, and understanding what those entreaties implied, he came inside her. And came. And came.

When it was over, he slid his tongue into her mouth and they kissed, sexily and meaningfully in equal measure. For a long time, they made love just by kissing. Until sleepiness overcame them. He hugged her close, nuzzling her nape, tasting the fragrant skin beneath her hair, until they drifted back to sleep.

Neither had spoken a word, but it had been an intensely sexual and intimate experience, ripe with promise, implicative of a future. Words hadn't been necessary. And they weren't now.


	19. Chapter 19

"You awake?" Damon asked.

"Yes," she mumbled.

The first thing Elena noticed when she awoke early in the morning was that she could not move. Damon had her pinned to the bed with one heavy arm wrapped around her midsection and a muscular leg thrown across her thigh.

He shifted a little, settling her more comfortably into the curve of his body. "I'm sorry, Elena. I shouldn't have lied to you about the Lakehouse. I didn't mean to keep it a secret. The Lakehouse means a lot to you. I swear to God I will not let anyone take it away from you."

She put her hand on his bare chest. "Yeah, that's one of the conclusions I reached yesterday."

"That and what others?"

"You are right. The tourism in Mystic Falls is growing and eventually Dunham Lake will be a popular vacation area."

"I promise you the Salvatore Corporate will not spoil the natural beauty of the Dunham Lake." He stroked the curve of her head. "And, the Lakehouse will always be the property of the Gilbert family."

Their eyes connected with an impact that stole her breath. Before another heartbeat, his mouth was on hers. Their kiss was long and lusty and left her wanting more.

When his lips skated down her neck, she threaded her fingers through your hair. "The final thing I concluded was that I really would be a damn fool if I denied myself years of happiness because of your intention to keep the Lakehouse safe."

"Years?" He breathed the words against her lips before claiming them again.

She groaned into his mouth and pulled him closer. When they finally pulled apart, she said, "Starting today. Starting right now."

Damon cleared his throat. "Elena, marry me. Now. Today."

She searched his face and found not a trace of doubt. If she had bothered to try, she could have come up with a dozen valid reasons not to rush into a marriage. But none of them was strong enough, singly or combined, to override the fact that she loved him and, more importantly, he loved her.

"Yes," she said simply.

"You are certain." He studied her closely. "I know women like to have big, elaborate weddings. I will call Liv to pick up a ring for you. But we will obtain a marriage license today. Then you can start planning the wedding…"

She didn't let him finish. She cut off his words by covering her mouth onto his. It was a lazy kiss that went on forever, a melding of their mouths, an exchange of tongues, intensely intimate, dangerously evocative.

A long time later she stirred again and leaned over him.

"I don't want a fancy wedding, Damon," she whispered. "Your love is more than enough."

"I do love you, Elena," he stated firmly. "Promise me you will remember that."

"Only if you promise to remind me," she teased.

He smiled. "I think Joseph and Katherine would be happy."

"Why was that?" she asked.

"Because we didn't make the same mistake they did."

"Because you never let go."

"I know."

"You know," she said with a soft smile. "You can be very annoying."

"I'm not annoying."

"Persistent."

"Determined."

Another laugh bubbled out of her. "A jerk. You are definitely a jerk at times."

Without warning, he rolled her onto her back and came down on top of her. "Yes, I'm a jerk. A jerk who is so in love with you."

Elena's heart swelled. "It feels bloody great, actually."

"Huh?"

"To be loved by a jerk."

He kissed her.

The brilliant colours of happiness splashed through her, effervescent and glorious. It was perfect.

x x x

"What?! You married Damon?" Caroline gaped as soon as Elena told her the news. She couldn't keep it to herself any longer.

Elena laughed at the surprise in her voice. "It's incredible, isn't it?" She held up her left hand to gaze at the platinum wedding band five carat marquise-cut diamond ring set in platinum that now so beautifully adorned her ring finger.

"Incredible isn't the right word for it," Caroline replied. "Elena, are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"Very sure."

"I haven't seen you so happy since your parents…" Caroline paused before continuing. "I'm sorry, Elena. I shouldn't have mentioned your parents."

Elena reached out to hold her hands. "It's okay, Caroline. I'm not the young little girl who was grieving for my parents. I'm all grown up. I can deal with the death of my parents now."

Caroline smiled. "Damon certainly makes you happy."

Elena grinned. "Yes, he does."

"Congratulations and happiness, my dear." Caroline held her hands tightly. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you, Caroline."

"And tell Damon I hope he knows what a lucky man he is."

"I will," Elena chuckled. "I need to call Jenna later today and inform her about my marriage."

"Who would have thought a Gilbert would marry a Salvatore?" Caroline said.

"Never thought of that," Elena gasped between giggles.

"I bet the whole town will be surprised."

Elena laughed. "I know. It's a small town. Not like there's a heck of a lot to do around here in Mystic Falls. It's almost like we've got a social obligation to bring a little excitement to town."

"Well, we both know news travel fast in Mystic Falls. You wouldn't be able to keep the marriage as a secret."

"I'm not going to keep it as a secret. I don't want gossips over our marriage." Elena mused. "Damon and I have absolutely nothing to hide. We don't want any erroneous or slanderous speculation."

"You are right." Caroline assured her. "Everyone in Mystic Falls will be happy for you."

"Thank you," Elena murmured. Tears were prickling her eyelids. "I'm so glad you are here, Caroline."

"Hey, no more tears, okay? You are supposed to be happy because you just got married." Caroline made a face and settled back against the seat. "So when is the wedding? Are you planning to have one?"

Elena sighed. "I haven't really thought about the wedding yet. Personally I prefer to have a small ceremony but Damon insists to have a lavish reception after the wedding ceremony. We are flying to Washington DC this weekend to meet his family."

"You better make sure I'm your bridesmaid, Elena Gilbert." Caroline warned her.

"I will be mad at you if you aren't going to be my bridesmaid."

They both laughed.

"Elena…" Caroline said timidly after a while.

"Hmm?" Elena took a sip of her ice tea.

"Have you talked to Elijah?"

Elena shook her head. "I'm not sure what to say to him."

"I don't think he has stopped loving you, Elena," Caroline said softly.

"I know." Elena sighed. "I don't know what to do, Caroline. Elijah is a good man. I don't want to hurt him."

Caroline drew in a shaky breath. "I didn't mean to pry into your family affairs. You probably should know about this."

Elena frowned. "What's going on? Tell me, Caroline. What is it?"

"Katherine didn't marry Joseph Salvatore because she thought he was playing both ends against the middle."

Elena held her breath. "Yes. He was with a widow at the same time when he was with Katherine. But the truth was he was never in love with the widow. He loved Katherine only."

"Yes, he was in love with Katherine only," Caroline answered. Her voice lowered in volume and pitch as she continued, "The widow was rich and he used his charm to get what he wanted."

"I knew that already." Elena cringed.

"But I don't think you know who was the widow."

Elena stiffened. "Who was she?"

"Tahlia Jackson was the grandmother of Esther Mikaelson."

x x x

When Elena entered Esther Mikaelson's outer office, Jules, Esther's secretary glanced up and allowed a smile to cross her expression. "Go right in, Miss Gilbert. Mrs Mikaelson is expecting you."

"Thank you." At the door to Esther's office, Elena hesitated a split second, then walked in without knocking.

A Tabriz carpet covered the parquet flooring and every vertical inch was faced with hand-selected California pine that had been painted, laboriously stripped, then waxed, imbuing the expansive and imposing office was the aura's of a captain's cabin. That feel of a mariner's room was subtly reinforced by the framed map of the China Seas that hung on the wall behind the massive antique desk at the far end of the room, a desk that failed to dwarf the woman seated behind it, for all its size. Esther glanced up as Elena approached, the tap of her booties muffled by the heavy Persian rug.

"I'm surprised to hear from you, Elena." She smiled and gestured Elena to take the seat across the desk. "What I can do for you today?"

Elena cleared her throat. "I'm here to talk about Tahlia."

Esther narrowed her eyes. "There is nothing to talk about." She got to her feet. "I'm very busy today. If you want to meet with me again, call my secretary. She will schedule an appointment for you."

"It was you who trashed the Lakehouse, wasn't it?" Elena asked softly. "Joseph Salvatore built the Lakehouse. Is that why you have decided to trash it?"

The blood drained from Esther's face. She swallowed twice before she managed to speak.

"You can't prove anything," she stammered. "You can't prove a damn thing; do you hear me?"

"Probably not. But I'm not here to talk about the Lakehouse. I came here today to talk about Tahlia, not to get you arrested."

"What do you want, Elena?" Esther demanded.

"I know Tahlia was your grandmother," Elena said, a little sadly. "She was a widow when she met Joseph Salvatore."

Rage infused Esther's face. "Joseph Salvatore was a monster. He used her to get what he wanted. That was the only reason he was with her."

"He made a mistake."

"A mistake?" The fullness of her temper moved darkly over her face. "He planned it all along. He used his charm to get what he wanted."

"Maybe he did but he knew he was wrong. He was sorry for what he did."

"He was sorry?"

"Esther, hatred is a very contagious thing." Elena pushed to her feet. "That was years ago. You need to let go."

"Let go?" Esther mocked. "Do you know my grandmother became outcasts because of what happened? Even her oldest friends started avoiding her. She got tired of being ostracized that she had to leave Richmond."

"I'm sorry about your grandmother."

"Sorry?" Esther took a step closer. "Don't pretend you are sorry, Elena. You are exactly like Joseph Salvatore. You used Elijah."

"No! I did not!" Elena cried out.

"You don't deserve Elijah. You are nothing but a promiscuous slut."

"That's enough!" Elijah said

The deadly voice was like a cannon shot in the room. Both women turned around quickly and found Elijah storming into the room.

"Elijah…" Elena stammered.

He walked to her side and gently touched her shoulder. "Elena, are you alright?"

"Y-yes," she nodded.

He turned to face Esther and stared coldly at her. "Mother, what happened between Joseph Salvatore and Tahlia was ancient history. Just drop it. Forget it, okay?"

Esther stiffened, her chin coming up. "For heaven's sake, Elijah. She is married to Damon Salvatore. Why do you still care about her?"

"That's none of your business."

Esther shook her head. "Elijah, what were you thinking?"

"Yes, I still care about her. I still love her," Elijah hissed. "Stay away from her, Mother. I will not let anyone hurt her."

Elena held her breath. Shock splintered through her and she gazed at him through the wash of tears. "Elijah…"

"I will take you home, Elena." Elijah grabbed her hand and led her out of the office.

The trip back to Mystic Falls was trying. The two adults were uptight and neither talked much. Elijah dropped her off at the art gallery shortly before three o'clock in the afternoon.

"I'm sorry, Elena," he said when she made to slide out of his car. "About the Lakehouse."

She stood and looked at him through the open door. "It's not your fault." She hesitated, conscious of the tension, the strain, the awkwardness that was between them, and wishing there was a way to erase it. "I'm the one who is supposed to apologise. I have hurt you, Elijah. I'm so sorry."

Elijah shook his head. "Don't apologise, Elena. You did nothing wrong."

"Elijah…"

"You love Damon. You have loved him all these years, haven't you? Two of you had history. Am I right?"

She answered with a nod. "I'm sorry, Elijah. I should have told you…"

"That's the reason you called off our engagement."

"How did you figure it out?"

"I suppose you could say it's a man's instinct. You have never looked at me like the way you look at Damon."

Elena said nothing.

"I want you to be happy, Elena. I won't blame anyone. It's been my misfortune that when I have found a woman I could love, she already belongs to someone else."

x x x

Damon prowled back and forth across the kitchen in his apartment. "You shouldn't have confronted Esther on your own."

"You've mentioned that several times already." Elena propped her elbows on the kitchen table and rested her chin in her hands. "I've explained that I went there on impulse."

"What if she had turned violent?"

"She's not the type."

"You can't be certain." Damon cursed silently. "Unfortunately we can't prove she is the one who trashed the Lakehouse."

Elena looked out the window. "It doesn't matter anymore, Damon. Hatred is a terrible thing."

"You are right. Hatred is a terrible thing." He came to a halt in front of her and pulled her to her feet. "But love is different. I don't intend to know what love is to everyone, but I can tell you what is it to me. Love is about knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than with any other person. Love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of. Love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you. You, Elena Gilbert make me feel all these."

"You, Damon Salvatore make me feel the same too." She stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

"Ummm." He wrapped an arm around her when she made to pull back, holding her close for a long, slow, blood-warming kiss.

When he finally released her she was flushed and breathless. She saw the lazy, sexy gleam in his eyes and knew that she wasn't the only one who had been affected by the embrace.

"So when are you going to move in?" he asked.

For a moment Elena was speechless. "Here in Washington DC?"

"Husbands and wives usually, not always of course, but usually, live together."

She bit her lower lip. "But the art gallery…"

He cuffed her under the chin. "I'm not asking you to give up the art gallery. April can look after the art gallery when you are here. I'm pretty sure you can deal with a lot of matters through emails and phone calls."

"This will mean I'll have to go Mystic Falls frequently."

"I understand. Although I think Mystic Falls would be a great place for the kids to grow up, I can't leave Washington DC because of Salvatore Corporate."

"Kids?"

"Yes, kids. Our kids. I would like six, but I will settle for one," he said, laughing.

"Being the only child is too lonely." She gnawed on her lower lip. "I think two children will be perfect."

He smiled. "Sounds reasonable, since you're the one who has to have them."

"I love you, Damon."

"I love you too."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. His mouth came down on hers in a deep, passionate kiss.


	20. Chapter 20

"I'm Giuseppe Salvatore. We gotta talk."

Elena had not expected to find Giuseppe Salvatore on the front door this morning.

"Damon is in the shower. He won't be too long."

"I'm here to talk to you, not Damon." He went past her into the apartment.

Elena followed him inside and let the door close behind her.

"Can I get you something? Coffee?" she asked quietly.

"No. Answer me. You are serious about Damon or are you just having some fun yourself?"

She stiffened. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play games with me, young woman. You know what I'm talking' about here. If you are going to break Damon's heart, I want to find out now."

"Me? Break Damon's heart?" From out of nowhere, anger surged through her. "What makes you think that's even a remote possibility?"

Giuseppe gave a muffled snort. "You've got him in the palm of your hand and you know it. Question is, what are you after? Money?"

"No!" Her voice cracked. "I love Damon."

"Don't tell me you haven't thought about getting your hands on a chunk of his money by marrying him."

Elena was aghast. "Of course not! I would never marry for money."

Giuseppe eyed her with deep suspicion. "Why should I trust you? You are a Gilbert."

She had to get out of here. She was ready to explode. "Let me make something clear. I love Damon. I don't care whether he is the president of the Salvatore Corporate or whether he is a multi-billionaire. I love him for who he is."

"Dad, how dare you?" Damon stormed into the living room.

Elena went still. She was vaguely aware that Giuseppe did the same.

"Damon."

He ignored her. His entire attention was focused on Giuseppe.

"What in the world are you doing?" Damon raised his voice. "You think she wants to marry me so that she can get her hands on my money, don't you? What are you offering her to get out of my life? Or are you threatening her?"

"Damon, please…" she pleaded.

"Stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you, Elena." Damon glared at Giuseppe. "This is between me and dad."

"Things aren't quite the way they look," Giuseppe said.

"I don't believe that for one minute," Damon declared. "You haven't even tried to get to know Elena and you just leaped to the conclusion that she was after me because of money."

"She is a Gilbert. That's why I'm being cautious."

"I don't give a damn whether she is a Gilbert or not." Damon shot back. "What happened between Joseph Salvatore and Jonathan Gilbert was ancient history. It was long time ago."

"I have to make sure she isn't one of those women who are after a rich husband. Am I wrong? You are my son. I have to look out for you."

"For heaven's sake, dad. Elena is not after my money," Damon said through gritted teeth.

Giuseppe blinked. Then the lines at the corners of his eyes creased in wary concern. "Simmer down, son. Just trying to have us a reasonable discussion here."

"You are the one who is not being reasonable here." Damon almost yelled.

"This is your father you are dealing with here. Show some respect."

"You want me to show some respect?" Damon warned. "Fine. Stay out of my business."

"I don't want Damon's money," Elena said softly.

Giuseppe swung around to face her. "What did you say?"

"I have a job. I don't want Damon's money. I won't accept Damon's inheritance."

Both men stared at her in dumbfounded silence.

"There is a way around this. We can have an agreement, if you don't trust me." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Damon can put his share of his inheritance into a trust for any children we might have. But I won't get any of it. Okay with you, Mr Salvatore?"

Damon looked at her. "Elena, you don't have to do that…"

Elena met Damon's eyes. She smiled. "I told you before, Damon. Your love is more than enough."

He gave her his slow smile, showing just a hint of teeth. "I love you, Elena. I want to marry you, to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you."

A tear slipped down her cheek. Damon stepped forward and gathered her into his arms. It felt right here, she thought. It felt so right. She belonged to Damon. They belonged together.

Giuseppe looked thoughtful. "One way to handle it, I guess."

"Dad, I love her. I'm not going to let Elena go away. She is my wife," Damon said firmly. "She will always be my wife."

Giuseppe was quiet for a time. And eventually he said, "You are serious about this, aren't you?"

"Never been more serious in my life." He tightened his arms around Elena. "Can't live without her."

Giuseppe chuckled. "I came mighty close to screwing that up pretty bad, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." Damon looked at him. "But Elena and I are unbreakable. How do you feel about your new daughter-in-law?"

Giuseppe smiled. "She will do."

Later that night when she was naked and lying beside him, he gathered her close. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier."

She ran her fingers over his lips. "No more apologies, okay?"

She curled her arm around his neck and pulled him down for a deep, lengthy kiss. His hands moved over her lovingly. Soon, their breathing was choppy and swift.

"Oh Damon," she whispered, her heart swelling with love. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He speared his fingers through her hair. "Should have married you ten years ago."

"Are you crazy? I was only seventeen at that time. I couldn't marry you!" Her voice rose to a shrill squeak. "We both needed time to decide what we wanted out of life."

"You could be right." He thought about that for a few seconds. "Now I know what I want in my life."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do." He brushed his lips across hers. "You."


	21. Epilogue

In the dimly lit lounge, a small combo played a dreamy ballad, all soft and bluesy with longing. A handful of couples moved slowly around the handkerchief-sized dance floor frequently as described as intimate. Elena didn't want a fancy wedding but a small reception made up of friends and families. Damon had insisted a lavish wedding ceremony but finally he gave in.

Elena fully agreed with the description as she danced with Damon, not a breath of space between them, their feet moving indifferently to the rhythm, their heads bent together, with Damon now and then turning his mouth against her temple or cheek in discreet caresses.

At his mouth lightly rubbed itself against her forehead, Elena smiled. "This is nice."

"You know you could have a fancier wedding than this," he said dryly.

"But I like this," she whispered against his lips before her mouth closed over his.

When they pulled apart, he held her possessively, protectively, damn grateful that he had her with him. He would treat every day with Elena as a gift, because it was.

"Tell me something you really want—anything at all. I want to give you something," Damon said desperately, wanting to show Elena how much she meant to him.

She pulled his head back by fisting his hair gently. "I have everything I want, Damon. I have you."

Somehow, he didn't see himself as a very big prize. "What else?"

Studying his face for a moment, she finally answered, "Well, I would like to have a baby sometime in the next year or so. I think I'll probably need your help and your consent since we are married."

Damon's heart went into double time. He could imagine Elena ripe with their child, rocking a daughter or son to sleep. Playing. Laughing. Loving. It would be amazing.

"I would love that. A girl with your beautiful eyes and smile would be incredible."

"A boy with your eyes and your cute little smirk," she corrected.

"One of each?" It sounded like a good compromise to him.

"Babies don't exactly come made to order," she teased, squeezing his fingers as her laughing eyes smiled at him.

"I'm a Salvatore. We never give up." Hell, he would give her as many babies as she wanted to have, and he would love every one of them fiercely.

"So I take it I have your agreement?"

"Yep. And you know I'm going to help just as much as you would like." He would help several times a day if she wanted to get pregnant. In fact, he would help even if she didn't want to get pregnant.

"I think I'm going to need to practice until you are ready. A lot."

Elena snorted with laughter and pulled him back down to kiss her.

He obliged very willingly. This was one mission where Damon knew he would have absolutely no reservations.

x x x

 _Five years later…_

Damon wheeled his blue Camaro into the driveway of the Lakehouse. His four-year-old son, Joseph, sitting in the seat beside him, laughed with pleasure.

"Do it again, Daddy! Let's go for a drive again!"

Damon unbuckled their seatbelts, got out and laughed as he swung his son to the ground. "I think we have enough sight-seeing on the car today, son. Otherwise I will be in trouble." He looked toward the cottage and, sure enough, there she stood on the front porch, hands planted firmly on her hips and her small foot beating an impatient tattoo. "Oops! Looks like we are in trouble," he said with a grin.

His son ran toward his mother as Damon slowly headed toward the front porch. As Damon walked closer to Elena, his heart filled to overflowing with love, the way it always did when he saw her, even after such a brief absence. His eyes ran appreciatively over her slender figure. She was dressed in a pair of tight jeans and T-shirt, and he felt his body responding as it always did, even after nearly five years of marriage _. God, I love that woman!_

"Mommy! Can we go for a drive again? Please?" Joseph asked.

He stopped at the bottom of the porch steps and grinned up at her, waiting for her to tear into him as he knew she would.

"No more drive today. You have gone for a drive more than three times already." She glowered at their son, but the expression didn't quite ring true. "And you, Damon Salvatore, you need to stop taking our son for a drive in that thing!" There was humour in her eyes and affection in her voice.

Damon stuck his hands in his back pockets, rested one foot one the first step and cocked his head to one side. "I haven't killed anyone with that thing yet, darling. You have to trust me."

Elena gave a little huff and dismissed the subject of Damon's driving. "It's getting late. You two should get ready for supper."

"Supper sounds good. And I can't wait until the kids are asleep." He pulled her flush against his body. "I can't wait to go to bed with you."

Elena blushed like a schoolgirl at his obvious attempt to seduce her right on the front porch. "Behave yourself, Damon Salvatore," she said, but her grin told her she was not averse to the suggestion.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Their sensual interlude was interrupted by the happy squeals of two-year-old Katherine as she burst out of the front door.

Damon picked up his daughter and swung her high into the air, causing more squeals of laughter. "How's my girl?" he asked the tiny bundle who looked so much like her mother it made his heart turn over every time he saw her.

He lowered her to his chest and her soft chubby arms went around his neck in an exuberant hug. She planted a moist kiss on his cheek. The sweet smell of clean baby filled his senses, and she turned her large brown eyes to him. "Daddy, can I have ice-cream?" she asked.

"Of course you can."

Katherine's trill of delight echoed across the porch.

Elena shook her head. "Damon, what am I going to do with you? You spoil those kids rotten."

Holding his daughter against his chest with one arm and, Joseph and Elena close to his side with the other. Damon looked at the Dunham Lake and wondered what he had ever done to be so lucky. He had everything in the word anyone could possibly want or need.

The Salvatore Corporate was prospering, his family was well and happy, and he had the most wonderful woman a man could ever ask for. A slow grin tipped up the corner of his mouth. Damon Salvatore was a happy, contented man, and he had the feeling that his happiness would continue for a long, long time.

Who said a Salvatore and a Gilbert could not live happily ever after?

 _THE END_


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